


The Nature of Things

by sinisterbug, Stark_Black



Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Brothels, But They Are Still Good People, F/F, F/M, Heavy Angst, M/M, Multi, Multiple Partners, Possible Trigger Warning For Some Slurs, Prostitutes Have Dirty Mouths, Prostitution, Sanji Is Learning And Might Be Insensitive, Sanji and Zoro are Womenizers, Slurs, Sometimes They are Men-enizers?, Spoilers They Want To Have Sex With Each Other, They Just Have A Lot Of Casual Sex, eventually, sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-09-22 15:29:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 115,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9614141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinisterbug/pseuds/sinisterbug, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stark_Black/pseuds/Stark_Black
Summary: When the Sunny docks, Sanji and Zoro sometimes seek out relief in some not so savory places. After crossing paths in town on more than one occasion, the two find they have a lot more in common than they would like to admit.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from StarkBlack:
> 
> This story has been quite a project, with some incredibly polar reviews. It seems readers either love this story to death, or they hate it. There’s no middle ground. I personally don’t really care if you like it or not, I’ve had a ton of fun writing it, and that’s all that should matter when it involves fanfiction. However, I do feel that maybe a little explanation into my mindset is owed to some, so here I go.
> 
> Never in a thousand years—ten thousand years—would I ever actually think that Zoro and Sanji are these kinds of people, and by that I mean the sex-driven, hooker-swapping, brothel-loving maniacs that have been represented in this fic. Zoro is too focused on his crew and his goals, and Sanji is too busy being a good crewmate and friend and saving the entire crew over and over, to have sex and brothels and all that be so prevalent in their lives. I really don’t think there’s a lot of room for sex and romance in the One Piece series at all. Oh, it’s there, but it’s not a focus. It’s not a romance anime/manga, it’s a pure adventure. I mean, the main character is asexual, come on. That being said, I really like fanfiction. I really like raunchy fanfiction. I really like sexy, dirty, rough, sweet, passionate, nasty, beautifully explicit fanfiction. And sometimes, I like that fanfiction even better if it’s in a parallel universe that is focused completely on the implausible and ridiculous ways that these characters manage to have sex with _each other_. It’s fun, it’s a way to escape my real life and have a good time in my head. I do not believe that anything like this could ever happen, nor would I want it to. I don’t want anything but what Oda has in store for us. I wouldn’t change a thing.
> 
> So please understand that this fic, is exactly that: fiction. Something fun. Not to be taken seriously. If you have a problem with it, please don’t read it. I’m not forcing anyone to suffer through my eccentric fantasies of how Sanji and Zoro end up fucking. 
> 
> Now, if you _don’t_ have a problem with it, and you manage to like this story, then please, by all means, stay. Enjoy. 
> 
>  
> 
> Beta by the wonderful [Bronze Tigress](http://bronzetigress.livejournal.com/)

Sanji stepped onto the dock and pulled his lighter from his pocket. He struck the flint, lit the end of his cigarette, and breathed in deep. Pulling the smoke into his lungs, he turned to wave once more to Robin as she sunned herself on the deck of the Thousand Sunny. She smiled at him over her book and nodded in acknowledgment as he turned to leave. The rest of the crew had left the ship hours ago, but Sanji had decided to stay and organize the new supplies. He liked having his work done before he played, but more than that, he liked the peace of mind that came with the ship’s food supply being stored and locked away so certain captains couldn’t get at it in his absence.

The cook rubbed the muscles in the back of his neck and sighed softly. He was dead tired. All he wanted now was a good meal that he didn’t have to cook, a massage, and a blow job before he passed out. Not necessarily in that order. 

Sanji made his way through town passing fruit and vegetable vendors, silks traders, and other various booths that lined the cobblestone streets. This place was by far one of the finest Sanji had seen on his adventures as a Strawhat Pirate. The streets were clean, the people were friendly, and the supplies they had purchased earlier were of a quality Sanji rarely saw anywhere anymore. He was glad of the hefty bag of belli Nami had allowed him after their last big break, because he planned on spending it all in one place. 

Sanji smiled as he spotted a flower stand and ducked under the colorful overhang.

“Evening, friend." He gave a pleasant smile, and the portly man behind a pile of lilies returned it in full.

“Evening, sir,” he said cheerfully, “What can I do ya for?” 

Sanji bent to inhale the scent of a few small, blue flowers. He instantly liked their clean, fresh smell and plucked one out of the bucket. He had never seen the like before, but the color matched his shirt perfectly.

“Just this and a little information.” The cook snapped off the stem and slid the flower to the button hole of his suit jacket. 

“Sure!” The round fellow wiped his hands on a small rag and leaned over the table. “What're ya lookin’ for?”

“Entertainment for tonight,” the cook said coolly, pulling a cigarette out of his pack and sliding it behind his ear. “Massage parlor or a bath house. Something clean, and I don’t mind expensive.”

“Ah, then ya wanna check out _Sable_. Those girls are classy, and they’re trained to be real ladies. They walk down the street and you’d a never know what they be doin’ at night, they look so nice.”

“Sounds perfect.” Sanji dropped a generous amount of belli in the man’s hand. “Can you point me in the right direction?”

The flower vendor enthusiastically told Sanji where to find _Sable_ and promised that after the cook experienced one of their ‘jawbone massages’, he would never want to leave. Sanji just smiled and thanked the man again, chuckling inside, knowing that as long as a certain redhead was sailing with the Thousand Sunny, he could never be tied down anywhere.

He found the place without much difficulty. The building sat between several other business establishments without seeming to be any different than a very nice hotel. Sanji ascended the steps and was about to pull open the door, when the knob turned, and the door was pushed open from the inside.

“Thank you very much, Sir,” a sweet voice said from inside. “Please come again; you are welcome any time.”

“No, no, thank you,” a familiar voice said quietly. “I enjoyed myself very much. I apologize for not staying, but I need to get back to my ship.”

_What the hell?_ Sanji thought to himself. _There is no way…_

The cook stepped back as the door was opened fully and a small, beautiful girl with long, dark hair and pale skin stepped outside. She seemed star-struck and put a hand to her chest as she continued to speak to the man just inside the doorway.

A tall man with green hair and three swords hanging from his waist.

“You said you were going to be here for a few days,” the girl said coyly. “Come and see me again?”

Zoro’s voice was soft, unlike Sanji had ever heard, but his face was still set with hard lines and unfriendly scowl.

“If there’s time after training and my captain doesn’t get us into any trouble, then sure.”

The girl beamed at the swordsman and Sanji rolled his eyes. He must have paid her really well if she was going this far with her little act.

The cook cleared his throat and both heads turned to look at him. Dark eyes met Sanji’s and widened in surprise when the swordsman realized just who he was looking at.

The girl on the other hand, kept her smile and turned to face him fully.

“Good afternoon, Sir. Are you looking for companionship this evening?”

Sanji looked away from his ship’s first mate and smiled sweetly at her. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

“Yes, love, I am. But could I be so rude as to ask if I may have a minute alone with your last patron? He is my shipmate and I need to give him a few instructions before he heads back.”

The girl curtsied and nodded. “Of course, any friend of Mr. Roronoa’s is a friend of mine. We’ll look forward to your visit Mr-?” 

“Sanji,” the cook replied. “Just call me Sanji.”

After another long look at Zoro, the girl waved and disappeared back inside. The moment the door was closed, Sanji rounded on Zoro and jabbed a finger into the other man’s chest.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Zoro smirked. “I’m guessing the same thing you’re doing here.”

“No,” Sanji rolled his eyes. “What are you doing _here_. This is a nice place. The girls here don’t drink whisky and probably have regular doctor visits.”

“Lola drinks whisky,” Zoro said. “Tossed it back like it was water.”

“Who’s Lola?” Sanji asked.

“The girl that was just out here. She can get both legs behind her head at the same time, too.”

“Oh, really?” Sanji looked at the door as if he could see right through to the woman in question. 

“Yeah, it was pretty cool.”

Sanji blinked, realizing just how abnormal this conversation was. He turned back to Zoro’s grinning face, trying to decide if he had hit his head and was hallucinating, or if he had finally just lost it.

“I don’t know which is weirder,” Sanji murmured. “The fact that you actually have sex, or the fact that we ended up at the same place.”

It was Zoro’s turn to roll his eyes. “I’m a guy too, same as you.” 

Sanji pulled the cigarette from behind his ear and placed it between his lips. “Well, I always thought you were either asexual, or you had some weird kinky thing going on with your swords.”

“You’re an idiot,” Zoro growled. “And what do you mean it’s weird we would go to the same place? This place is great.”

“Yeah, I know, that’s just it,” Sanji said. “This just doesn’t seem like the kind of place you’d go, Marimo.” 

Zoro lost his smile then and moved closer to the cook. “Just because I don’t speak a frilly language or wear prissy clothes, doesn’t mean I bang back alley hookers. I have a healthy respect for women, just like you do, and I appreciate a girl who takes care of herself. I just don’t make any moves on Robin or Nami because Robin would probably cut my dick off, and Nami’s too much of a bitch.”

“Hey,” Sanji’s anger flared. “Nami-san is not a bitch! Don’t ever say that! And Robin-chwan is a lady, she would never… Wait, what the hell!? I don’t wear prissy clothes! This is a suit, you moron!” 

“Seriously,” Zoro stepped back and folded his arms over his chest. “You could totally wear Robin’s clothes one day, and I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

Sanji crushed his cigarette between his teeth and reached for the door handle.

“Whatever, man. If anyone asks I’ll be back on board to make breakfast in the morning.”

Sanji closed the door behind him. He was angry as he crossed the foyer, but he calmed down significantly as the woman behind the desk called for Cat, the house mistress. By the time they had booked his room and sent Wendy, a redheaded beauty from West Blue, down to fetch him, he was back to his usual charming self. He forgot all about Zoro and his contortionist sex and his snide stupid comments as he was lead up the stairs for a very expensive night of wine and women.

* * *

The next morning found Sanji waking in a tangle of soft skinned limbs. He took the delicate hand that lay across his chest and brought the fingers to his lips. Beautifully manicured nails accented flawless, pale skin and the cook couldn't help himself from indulging in the treasure that cuddled next to him.

Wendy slept peacefully against his back as he rolled into the body on his other side. He kissed down the column of Angel’s neck and licked gently along her collar bone. The blonde had slipped into Sanji’s room late last night saying that she got lonely when her roommate wasn’t there. 

Sanji, of course, was very accommodating.

Now, Angel stirred beneath him, sighing prettily and raising her hands to rest on the back of his neck as he softly nibbled her flesh.

“Good morning, Sir,” she said sweetly. “Did you sleep well?”

“How many times have I asked you to call me Sanji?” He breathed against her skin. “And of course I did. How could I not have with a beautiful flower such as yourself keeping me company?”

Angel giggled and Sanji raised himself to kiss her lips and roll off the bed.

“I’m sorry I have to leave so early, but I have a crew to feed.”

“It’s all right,” Angel said, stretching and sitting up. She fluffed the comforter around her and turned to run her hands over the fiery ringlets of Wendy’s hair. “Are you in town long?”

Sanji smiled. “A few days.”

Angel tilted her head to the side and licked her bottom lip. “If you come back, I’ll drop whatever I’m doing.”

Sanji's smile widened as he pulled on his pants and plucked his shirt from a nearby chair.

“I can try, but my captain’s a little nuts and sometimes things go a little crazy.”

Angel sighed and stretched out on her side, the movement pulling the covers off her top half and exposing her naked body to Sanji’s appreciative eyes. “I’m so going to brag about you today. Wendy will too. Lola will eat her words from last night.”

Sanji froze, but quickly recovered and forced himself to smile and finish buttoning his shirt, in spite of how that name had thrown him off. 

“L-Lola?” he rasped. “What was Lola saying last night?”

“Ugh, her client yesterday.” Angel shook her head. “She was going on and on about how amazing he was, and how thoughtful and attentive... That’s something that’s hard to come by in this line of work: A man that takes a moment for the woman’s needs. Lola was ecstatic about him. She’s probably in love; she falls in love all the time.”

Sanji slipped his feet into his shoes, trying not to throw up as he grabbed his jacket and moved back to the bed. He sat and leaned into Angel, his fingers taking a lock of her golden hair and bringing the softness to his lips.

“And what are you going to say about your client?”

Angel smiled and leaned forward to kiss him softly on the cheek.

“I’m going to tell her that he was like a prince and he made me feel like a princess…”

Sanji smiled and pressed his lips quickly to hers.

“Tell Wendy I had a wonderful time, and if I don’t see you again, you take care.”

She waved to him as he left. He descended the stairs two at a time, but stopped when he passed the desk. There was no one around, so he slipped behind the counter and grabbed an envelope from a drawer. He pulled out the same amount of belli Cat had charged him for a night with Wendy, and placed it into the envelope. He wrote _Angel_ on the front and placed it on a stack of papers on the top shelf. Straightening, Sanji slipped outside without being seen and started to make his way back to the harbor.

He pulled out a cigarette and lit it as he walked. He sucked in the smoke and watched the sun rise over the tops of the water as he pondered this new side of Zoro he had just discovered. The thought of that stupid Marimo doing anything except training or fighting or eating… or sleeping, was just weird. Thoughtful and attentive? Were they talking about the same person? Zoro didn’t seem like he could find a woman’s pleasure spots with both hands and written instructions. 

Sanji had to admit though, this put Zoro in an entirely different light than before. It made him out to be less of an untouchable, evil-fighting pirate typhoon, and more just a regular person with… weaknesses. 

Back on the ship, Nami had made coffee and was sitting with Robin at the kitchen table when Sanji returned. The navigator looked up, surprised, and immediately started to drill him.

“Are you just now getting back, Sanji?”

Sanji turned to her, hearts in his eyes, but his enthusiasm was diminished after his wild night with Angel and Wendy.

“Yes, Nami-san! I knew you would need breakfast and so I couldn’t stay out any longer!”

The redhead waved him away and took a sip of her coffee. “Where did you go last night?”

Sanji turned to the sink and started to wash his hands. He couldn’t lie to Nami if he was facing her.

“I found a place that played good jazz and served some nice vintage wine. I had one too many though, so I stayed in one of the rooms upstairs.”

Nami glared at him. “Why does that sound kind of rehearsed?”

“Because it was,” Zoro said from the doorway. Sanji swirled around to meet the swordsman’s eyes. He glared daggers at the other man, daring him to continue.

“Come on, shit cook,” Zoro smiled cruelly as he leaned against the doorframe. “Tell them what really happened.”

Sanji wanted to launch himself across the room and kick Zoro’s teeth into his brain, but he stood his ground by the sink and fumed quietly, trying to think of something to say.

“Sanji?” Nami glared. “What did you do?”

“I can tell them if you don’t want to.” Zoro crossed his arms over his chest.

_I am so gonna kill you, you son of a bitch,_ Sanji thought. _You are so fucking dead..._

“Okay, fine. I’ll tell them.” Zoro shrugged. “He got in a bar fight.”

Sanji had already started to hurl himself across the kitchen when Zoro had started to speak, so when the swordsman’s lie hit the cook’s ears, he tried to stop himself and ended up just falling to the floor. 

“What!?” Sanji and Nami said at the same time.

“Sanji! What happened!?” Nami demanded. “We’ve just recovered from another battle with Marines and you can’t go one day without getting in a fight? What’s wrong with you?”

Sanji glanced from Nami to Zoro and caught the look in the swordsman’s eyes. He took the hint and stood up quickly.

“I’m sorry, Nami-san!” he cried. “I really did have too much to drink, and then I saw this guy,” he pointed to Zoro angrily, “lost and wandering through the streets! I told him we should go back, but he was like ‘Nooo, I need more to drink,’ so we hit up another place, but they were rude and said we had to leave because we’re pirates, so Genius here pulled his swords and then all hell broke loose!”

He stood still for several moments after his story finished, waiting to see what Nami would say. The redhead turned from him to glare at Zoro.

“That’s what happened?”

“Yes,” Zoro answered. “Except I’m pretty sure I didn’t make the first move. Sanji cracked some guy over the head with his foot, and I drew to make sure no one killed us.”

“Liar!” Sanji called from the sink.

Nami looked back and forth between the two men for a minute before she sighed and stood, taking her coffee mug with her towards the galley door.

“Whatever, just call when breakfast is ready.”

Robin gave Sanji a sweet smile before she stood and followed Nami out onto the deck, pushing gently past Zoro on the way out. The second the door closed, Sanji threw up his arms and leaned back against the counter.

“What the fuck was that, asshole!?” he demanded, his voice barely above a whisper so as not to be heard if the girls were still around. “You almost blew everything, you fuck-tard!”

Zoro grinned and moved into the kitchen to pull out one of the chairs. “Just wanted to see you squirm.” He turned the chair around backwards and straddled it, resting his arms on the back.

Sanji pulled a knife from the block and nonchalantly waved it in the swordsman’s direction. “I should kick your ass.”

Zoro shook his head. “Whatever.”

Sanji grumbled under his breath and turned to the fridge to start pulling out ingredients for breakfast. It felt weird being backed up by Zoro in something other than a battle. It took all the fight right out of him, not that there had been much in the first place. He felt more relaxed than he had in months; the ‘jawbone massage’ really did the trick. He muttered under his breath as he pulled out leftover ham and started slicing it into thin strips.

“It’s kind of nice not having to worry about Nami-san interrogating me for the rest of the day, so as much as I hate to say it…thanks.”

Zoro scoffed behind him. “I didn’t do it for you. I was dodging one of that witch's interest bullets.”

“Knock it off,” Sanji growled. “Stop talking about Nami-san like that. I’ll fucking kill you. Get the hell out of my kitchen. I’ll call when breakfast is ready.” He listened for the galley door opening before he spoke up.

“Oh, and Marimo,” Sanji smirked.

“Hm?”

“Lola says you suck at sex and she only told you to come back ‘cause you pay well.”

Zoro laughed and stepped out onto the deck. “Now who’s the liar.”

Sanji listened to the door close and finished his cooking with a smile on his face.

* * *

It was one of his better ideas, the swordsman had to admit. He hadn’t planned it, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity when it came.

Lola, it seemed, had already been scheduled for a regular that she couldn’t blow off that evening, and had asked the house mistress to inform Zoro, should he return, that she was very, very sorry indeed and that she would love to see him again the next night if he was still on the island.

Since his captain hadn’t managed to turn the town upside down yet, and he still had enough money (that he ever had _any_ was a surprise to him, with Nami’s interest rates ever-climbing), he wasn’t going to waste another opportunity for good sex. He made sure to slink away from the Sunny when the cook was preoccupied. He’d rather not risk another run in with him again, let alone showing up at the same time.

So, he grinned to himself (it must have been rather disconcerting to the house mistress) and asked for the young woman that had accompanied his blond shipmate the night before. The woman smiled at him and opened her appointment book. Her long, red, fake fingernail raked over the page and landed in a spot next to two names. She raised her thin eyebrow and said, “It appears that he began the night with Wendy… and ended it with Wendy _and_ Angel. They are both currently available. Would you like to see them and decide, or shall I choose for you?”

Zoro snorted. That prissy love-cook _would_ , he thought to himself. Well, he was always up for a challenge. “Show me a number for both,” he said.

The house mistress plucked a pen from its stand, dipped it in an inkwell and scribbled a number on a scrap of paper, then handed it to him.

It wouldn’t be the _most_ he’d ever spent on sex, but it was slightly off-putting to know the impetus behind spending so much money on sex was _the cook_. But he never backed down from a challenge, so he emptied his pockets of belli and hoped it was going to be worth it.

He purposely did not think about how close this put him to sex and the cook at the same time, or that it wasn’t necessarily the challenge of showing the cook up that thrilled him, but knowing the idiot chef had touched the very same women the night before. Nope. He wasn’t thinking about that at all.

* * *

Angel arched her back and laughed slightly; it was one of those incredulous laughs that sounded just as though she couldn’t believe what had just happened.

Zoro leaned over her lithe form and ran his hands up the sides of her smooth belly. He kissed her neck gently and murmured, “You okay?”

She laughed again, this time more pronounced. “Of course,” she said, breathlessly. “I just wasn’t expecting…” She trailed off and shared a knowing glance with Wendy, whose red ringlets shook as she giggled.

The swordsman wondered briefly if Sanji would have been able to decipher that, or not. He’d never quite understood what went on in a woman’s head, even though he’d learned how to please their bodies adequately enough (or so it seemed).

Wendy seemed to sense his confusion. She crawled over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck as he sat up. “In man-speak, that means it was _very_ good.”

Angel ‘hm-ed’ in agreement as she collapsed on the bed, smiling.

* * *

It wasn’t usually Zoro’s ‘thing’ to sleep at a brothel. It sometimes resulted in theft, no matter how high class the place was, and he didn’t feel comfortable taking his eyes off his swords long enough to sleep in a strange place. But Wendy and Angel had proven that Lola wasn’t the only one who could hold her liquor and perform extreme contortionist acts. In the end, he was too tired to crawl out of the bed, go through the trouble of removing all the lipstick that had found its way onto his body, put on his clothes (his t-shirt also had lipstick on it, and he wondered when they’d had time to re-apply their makeup behind his back), and drag his sexed-up ass back to the Sunny. Then, of course, he’d have to deal with the interrogation, and really, it’d just be easier to claim he’d gotten lost once he got back in the morning.

Wendy and Angel both told him to come back any time, and thanked him enthusiastically for requesting them specifically.

As he made for the door to leave, Angel asked, “Why _did_ you request us, if you don’t mind me asking?” She smiled, and nudged Wendy with her elbow. “Are we infamous?”

Zoro gave them a charming grin (which he was completely unaware of, of course). “That sap-sucker cook that was here two nights ago is my ship mate.”

“Oh!” they both exclaimed. Wendy stepped in close and ran her hand up Zoro’s arm. “Any woman on your ship is profoundly lucky.” She got on her tip toes and gave the swordsman one last kiss on his cheek.

“Please do let us know if you pass by this way again,” Angel added, batting her eyes at the green-haired man.

After Zoro was gone, the girls ran downstairs to find the house mistress.

“Cat, you wouldn’t _believe-_ ”

But the house mistress held up one bony hand and silenced them. “I heard enough from Lola, thank you very much. I’m sure you ladies had a lovely time. Now go shower and get your breakfast.”

Wendy and Angel looked at each other. “What do you mean, you heard enough from Lola?”

The house mistress sighed. “The man you hosted last night was the same man Lola hosted two nights ago. You remember, of course, the gentleman she would _not shut up about._ Mr. Roronoa Zoro.”

They both flushed, realizing that in the passion and flurry of the previous night’s events, no one had even bothered to introduce themselves. They burst out into laughter and the house mistress, finally losing patience, shooed them away.

* * *

Luckily, no one was there to greet Zoro as he boarded the Sunny. Likely everyone was in the kitchen finishing breakfast, so he dashed in a rather un-manly way to the men’s bunk for fresh clothes, then to the bathroom for a quick shower. He’d begun to think his absence would slip by unnoticed as he settled down in the grass for a nap, when something hit his face.

That something was last night’s shirt with the tell-tale lipstick on the collar. He looked up to find the cook standing over him, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

“What,” he grunted, before tossing the shirt aside and settling back down.

“Nice of you to slip away from the ship while I stayed behind to clean up Luffy’s mess, asshole.”

“There wasn’t any mess when I left.”

“No, you were probably only half way to Sable when Luffy decided to shatter the aquarium glass in an attempt to see how strong it was,” Sanji spat. “It took everything Brook, Chopper and I could muster to keep Franky from killing him, and then we had to clean up all the fish, water and broken glass. Franky was up all night repairing it. _You_ , on the other hand, were rutting like an animal while poor Lola had to pretend to like it, I’m sure.”

Zoro snorted, not particularly caring. If it had happened while he was still around, of course he would have helped, and Sanji knew that. But it was just the type of opportunity that they both took to start shit with each other.

“Lola was busy. But the cute blonde and the hot redhead were enthusiastic to volunteer. They mentioned something about not getting any good customers in a while. Seems like they got stuck with some limp-dicked jerk the night before.”

“ _Wendy and Angel_ have names, you shit-headed buffoon,” Sanji said through gritted teeth.

Zoro had expected the attack, but he hadn’t expected the cook to stomp straight on his solar plexus with that much force. He gasped and rolled over, ripping up the grass as he clenched his fists, trying to find air. He had enough wits about him to block the kick to his ribs, though not very well, and he knew his arm was going to be all the worse for it. He managed to scramble far enough away to dodge the kick after that.

He forced his solar plexus to stop seizing so he could breathe, but just as he was about to launch his counter, Nami burst out of the girl’s bunk and stopped them in their tracks.

“No,” Nami warned, her no-arguing face on. “Not today. I was up all night last night washing the stench of seafood out of my clothes and hair. We’re _not_ doing this today.” She pointed at the swordsman. “Zoro, since you were so conveniently gone last night, you get to _scrub_ the hull.”

“What the hell?” Zoro coughed. “I didn’t even know it’d happened-”

Nami’s eye glinted dangerously. “Oh, yeah? Well, I didn’t know it was _going_ to happen, but I still got covered in seaweed and fish! So strap on the sling and go get Chopper to do the anchoring!” She turned to look at Sanji, who was making love-love eyes at her. “If it will keep you from arguing with him today, I’ll give you another allowance. Just stay away from the Sunny until tonight!”

She stomped back into the girl’s room as Sanji professed his undying devotion.

“This is bullshit,” Zoro muttered. Now he was going to have to spend the rest of the day dangled over the side of the Sunny, suspended in a sling and scrubbing away layers of half-hardened sea-goo.

Sanji grinned and lit his cigarette. “Actually, it’s called ‘just desserts’. Not that Nami-swan needs to pay me to do her a favor, but I do believe I’ll make my way over to Sable and pay sweet Lola a visit. Show her what a real man is like.”

The only thing that kept Zoro from re-launching his interrupted attack was the thought that Nami might withhold his allowance at the next port. So he grudgingly found Chopper in the library and together they dragged out the sling, the long scrub brush, and the high-power cleaning chemicals.

* * *

After thanking Nami profusely for his additional allowance (he would have refused it, and almost did, if it hadn’t been a means for him to show the Marimo up), Sanji tidied up his appearance from cooking breakfast and headed into town. He’d have to wait a few hours before _Sable_ was open for business, but he was perfectly content to browse the market again. He’d seen a dusty bookstore that he hadn’t had time to peruse in the midst of shopping and searching for nightly entertainment.

Content in knowing the swordsman was busting his ass scrubbing gunk off the hull of the Sunny, he leisurely passed his time with a nice cup of coffee at an outdoor café and dug into his acquisition from the bookstore, ‘Essence of Gourmet Ingredients’ until around midday. This didn’t leave him with as much time as he would have liked; he’d have to be back by seven or so to start a late dinner. He was sure to get complaints about that from a certain rubbery captain, but he’d made sure to leave plenty of snacks (to be distributed only at Robin and Nami’s discretion).

He was only slightly embarrassed about being the first customer of the day, but the house mistress somehow didn’t seem surprised to see him.

“I assume you’re going to ask for Lola,” she prompted, pulling out her appointment book.

Sanji smiled self-deprecatingly. “Yes, how did you know?”

“This wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had a show of one-upmanship like this.” She sighed and raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m just glad you didn’t ask for all three. The ladies did, however, express a desire to provide the next patron with a discount, if it was either of you gentlemen. It appears to be your lucky day.”

“Oh, no, if it means that Miss Lola will receive less-”

“Not at all,” she assured him, and nodded at another girl, who left to fetch Lola. “This is the first time we’ve ever felt inclined to give a patron a discount. It will be taken out of the house funds, not her personal earnings. They insisted that you accept.”

“Well, if it’s all the same then…” Sanji bowed his head gratefully and was led upstairs to his room. Wait until that moss-headed jerk found out about this…

* * *

The next few hours passed in a pleasant blur. After an amazing afternoon of mind-blowing sex with the lovely and talented Lola (he congratulated himself on not needing to provide her with massive amounts of alcohol to give her a good time, or get her to show him the legs-behind-the-head trick), there was an abrupt knock on their door. They were yanked out of their post-coital snuggling fuzz when the house mistress walked in.

“Excuse the interruption,” she said brusquely, “but I think its best that you leave immediately, Mr. Sanji. It seems a member of your crew attracted the attention of the local Marines, and there is a rumor they’ve called for reinforcements.” She left immediately, closing the door behind her.

“Oh no-” Lola gasped before Sanji cupped her face and kissed her thoroughly.

He broke away quickly and said, “My sincerest apologies, my lady.”

The chef climbed out of bed, torn between saying goodbye properly and throwing his clothes on. He had one foot in his pants and his shirt half-way on when she wrapped the sheet around herself and helped him dress.

“I had a wonderful time, Sanji; thank you so much. Please tell Zoro I said hello, and that I wish we could have met again, too. Perhaps next time we can all arrange something together.” She winked and did the last button on his shirt.

Sanji took her hand and kissed it again. “It was truly my pleasure. I simply regret having to leave your presence in such a rush.”

She pushed him out the door, smiling. “Please don’t get caught!” and she waved him off.

Mournfully, he dashed down the stairs and out of the building, wondering whose ass he was going to have to kick for causing a ruckus. His precious Nami-swan or Robin-chwan better not be hurt!

* * *

Sanji didn’t have the heart to lecture Chopper about being spotted. It seemed, unfortunately, that a low-ranking Marine had spotted the reindeer at the apothecary and sounded the alarm. Besides, since the pose had set the day before, they were able to make quick time with the Coup de Burst, putting them too far ahead of the Marines for a potential pursuit. This did put Franky out even more than he already had been, since the Coup de Burst required massive amounts of cola, but thankfully they’d just stocked up.

He whistled as he prepared dinner – he’d chosen to prepare Franky’s favorite - keeping the kitchen door and windows open as he cooked (partly because it was so nice out, and partly because things still smelled like dank fish and seaweed).

* * *

It was Nami standing over the swordsman this time, her expectant aura rousing him from his light sleep. If she was going to ask him to clean something else, he was going to tell her where she could shove it, dire consequences be damned. He’d had to take down the 20 or so Marines already on the island, and help lift the anchor when the shitty cook finally arrived, on top of already being exhausted from scrubbing the hull all day. Granted, he wouldn’t have been so exhausted if he hadn’t strapped his heaviest set of weights to his arms as he scrubbed, but still. He shouldn’t have been punished with chores when the damn aquarium thing hadn’t been his fault. Why hadn’t she made Luffy do it, for that matter?

“I know you’re awake, so just listen. If you and Sanji can get through dinner without killing each other, I’ll give you the same amount I gave him earlier today.”

“Interest free,” the swordsman grunted, and rolled over.

Nami sighed heavily. “Fine. But it still counts as a loan.”

He heard her leave and grinned. That may or may not have been her way of apologizing for being unfair. Whatever it was, he’d take it.

When Sanji called out for dinner, he steeled himself. He knew the chef was going to have a story to tell about his visit to _Sable’s_ , and he was going to have to ignore all the hints the aho-cook was likely to throw his way. It wasn't like it was something they could blatantly talk about.

But Sanji also seemed to sense that Nami’s patience, not to mention Franky’s, was wearing thin, and dinner went by uneventfully.

The swordsman was beginning to wonder if the chef was going to say anything at all, when the evil bastard climbed up into the crow’s nest with a bottle of rum during his watch.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Oh, nothing,” the blond said, setting the bottle down at Zoro’s feet. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and started smacking the box. “I just felt sorry for you. Thought you could use some consolation.”

Zoro knew that by taking the bottle, he’d be admitting to whatever Sanji had cooked up in his perverted mind. But if he didn’t, he’d be wasting a good opportunity for booze. He had to decide what he wanted more; rum, or to piss the cook off.

Rum was good, but a pissed off Sanji was a _hot_ Sanji. And a pissy, hot Sanji was good alone-time material when there wasn’t a decent brothel to be had, or when they were broke, and all he had was his imagination and the chair shoved against the bathroom door. So the image was needed often enough that he ignored the bottle, and continued lifting weights. If he could manage to get physical with the cook, that’d be even better.

“At least women don’t lie to me to make me feel better about the size of my dick.”

Sanji sighed dramatically. “Oh, Zoro. So naïve.” He opened the packet and pulled out a cigarette. “Bet they don’t give you a discount at the door. Seems Lola specifically requested to be at my convenience. Oh,” he added, “I didn’t need to load her up with booze to get her to perform that little trick she showed you, either. Or, for that matter, the five _other_ tricks she showed me.”

Zoro shook his head and continued his regimen. “Deluded.”

Sanji stopped in the middle of lighting his cigarette. “Deluded? Zoro… That's a three syllable word. _And_ you used it properly – though, unfortunately, you’re incorrect. I’m proud of you!”

The swordsman figured this was an appropriate moment to pretend he was mad. He stilled his weights half way, turned to the chef, and said, “Catch.” He tossed the weights like they were nothing, and the last thing he saw before all hell broke loose was Sanji finally lighting his cigarette, and the way the light danced across Sanji's scowling features.

Nami revoked both of their allowances for the next two stops by the end of it, but Zoro didn’t mind. He had plenty of material for the long haul now.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Sanji’s life was nothing if not routine. Here he was again, still on the Sunny finishing up with the new inventory on the perishable food items, while the rest of the crew enjoyed the warm afternoon sun on land. He made check marks next to the items that were sorted and packed away, and small ticks next to the items that were still crated but sitting in the freezer below deck. They had done well this stop. Items were cheap and high quality, and the vendors had been particularly susceptible to Nami’s bartering skills. The cook had followed the ship’s navigator around with hearts dancing above his head as he praised her abilities, and tried desperately not to think of how amazing she looked with her new tan line. Sanji loved it when girls wore shirts that showed off the white lines left by their bikini tops. The contrast of the golden brown to the lighter creamy color of Nami’s natural skin tone, and then the pink of her halter, made the cook’s mouth water. After several cigarettes and a quick whack on the head from his precious flower for dropping a bag, he reined in his libido enough to realize that it was actually quite strange that Nami could tan period, being a red head and all.

In the end, Nami had recanted her former punishment of withholding Sanji and Zoro’s allowance. She had given Sanji a hefty bag of beli and told him to stay away from the ship that night. She had given one to Zoro as well when they returned to unload the supplies, and the swordsman had quickly disappeared.

Sighing heavily and placing the clip board on the shelf next to him, Sanji stretched his arms over his head and made his way up the ladder and to the men’s quarters. He would gladly give up all the beli and all the allowance in the world if Nami would just agree to keep him company at night. 

He took out a fresh suit and tie, and pulled his new red shirt from the hanger he had hung on his hammock. Red wasn’t really his color, but Robin had said it looked nice on him earlier when he had tried it on, so what could he do?

He showered quickly and dressed, running his hands through his hair as he passed the infirmary. He caught sight of Chopper leaning over a spread of paperwork and textbooks and stopped.

“Hey, Chopper,” he said as he pulled his tie tight. “I’m done with the count so I’m headed out. You gonna be okay?”

The little doctor nodded absently, his eyes never leaving his work. “I’ll be fine. Zoro just got back a few minutes ago, so I’m not alone.”

Sanji cringed. That was just what he needed: mention of the green-haired bastard as he was about to go have a nice night on the town. If Chopper had been any other person, he would have thanked him for spoiling his good mood.

“Okay, that’s good then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Night, Sanji.”

Sanji returned to his quarters and ran a comb through his hair before splashing a bit of cologne on the collar of his suit jacket and slipping his arms in the sleeves. He gave himself a quick once over in the mirror and, satisfied with his appearance, left the cabin and closed the door behind him.

Now, Sanji knew that if he just went left, proceeded directly across the main deck to the ramp, he could be out in the town and well on his way to a light buzz and a good woman in no time. But for whatever reason-- probably insanity-- the cook decided to go right, and check one last thing in the galley. He told himself that this was something that any self-respecting ship’s cook would do, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was just slightly curious to see what Zoro was up to. Or more importantly what he _had_ been up to while he’d been out.

As he turned the corner, Sanji spotted the swordsman sitting on the railing, drinking from a bottle of Pinot Noir. Granted, it was not one of Sanji’s better wines, and the cook secretly thanked the swordsman for being thoughtful, but this gave him the perfect chance to start something.

“Oi, shithead!” he called as he made his way slowly across the deck.

Zoro visibly froze, bottle halfway to his lips. Sanji watched the swordsman’s shoulders tense as he steeled himself for whatever Sanji was planning on throwing at him.

“You were supposed to be gone already,” Zoro said quietly, his tone suggesting he definitely didn’t give a rat’s ass about anything Sanji had to say.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” the cook growled. “I mean, seriously, there’s crates and crates of cheap ass shit in the cellar, but you always have to break into my pantry and steal the good stuff!”

“But that’s why.” Zoro took another swallow. “It’s cheap-ass shit, so it doesn’t taste as good.” He continued under his breath as he lifted the bottle once again, “And it pisses you off.”

Sanji snorted and stuck a cigarette between his teeth. “You know, you don’t have to steal my wine to piss me off. You just have to exist.”

Sanji’s jibe was met only with the slide of steel from a saya. The swordsman pulled Shuusui free and turned the hilt so the blade was facing down. He stuck the tip into the wood of the railing and took another long swallow. The movements were slow and easy, but there was no mistaking what the swordsman was saying.

“Don’t ruin my good mood, shit-cook.”

Sanji smiled and lit the tip of his cigarette. “You were barely gone two hours, Marimo. All that training every day, I thought you would have at least a little stamina.”

To his disappointment, Zoro didn’t react. The swordsman just sat quietly and took a long swallow from the bottle. Sanji sighed, not really liking sated Zoro all that much; he was proving to be boring.

The cook changed tactics, still not sure why he was bothering talking to the idiot in the first place. Finding that Zoro had a sexual drive similar his own didn’t really warrant this new curiosity. He should have just left it and moved on, but he couldn’t.

“So why don’t you ever stay the night?” he asked as he puffed on his smoke. “Most places charge for the whole night regardless.”

Zoro snorted. “I stay sometimes.”

“You stayed once.”

“You keeping tabs on me, cook?” Sanji could hear the grin in the swordsman’s words.

“Only so I know you’re here and I won’t run into you in town.” Breathing in deep and blowing the smoke out slowly, Sanji stepped forward and turned around to lean his lower back against the railing.

Zoro was quiet for a moment. He took a few small sips from the bottle and slid his sword back into its sheath.

“I don’t get it,” he finally said, quietly. 

“Don’t get what?” Sanji asked.

Zoro shrugged. “You’re always talking about how you’re this ladies’ man. You say shit like ‘women need to be treated with this and that’ and ‘delicate flowers need bla bla bla’ bullshit… but then you go and pay for sex.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Sanji growled. “Women really do need to be treated like graceful swans that-”

“Fuck, seriously, not right now.” Zoro turned to glare at Sanji, his eyes flickering down in a once over of Sanji’s shirt and back up again. “I don’t wanna hear your stupid-ass crooning. You know as well as I do that most women are nasty. They smile all pretty and bat their eyelashes and wear nice clothes that make you think that they’re sweet, and then as soon as you get them alone, they’ve got your dick down their throat or their cunt in your face.”

“Whoa, don’t call it that, man.”

“It’s what it is.”

Sanji jabbed a finger into Zoro’s shoulder. “There’s better names for it, asshole! That word’s fucking disgusting!”

Zoro grinned. “You’re such a girl.”

Sanji bared his teeth and pushed off the railing, his anger simmering hotly just beneath the surface. “Look, to answer your question, I can pick up ladies from any bar at any port, at any time. It’s just sometimes I’m too tired, or too stressed out, or too fucking injured to want to go to all that trouble! Sometimes I just wanna fuck and go to sleep after having to deal with this crew, and _you_ , who I can’t even have a normal conversation with _because I always end up wanting to fucking kill something!!_ ”

The cook flicked his cigarette butt over the side and shoved his hands in his pockets as he stormed off. He wasn’t really all that angry, Zoro just pushed all the right buttons to get him to act like a moron. He should have just turned back around and kicked the shit out of the asshole, but he didn’t want to mess up his new shirt.

Zoro’s voice followed him as he reached the ramp.

“The pickings are slim here; the only place worth checking out is _Abby’s_.”

“Whatever, man,” Sanji said over his shoulder. “I’ll be fine without your help.”

* * *

Unfortunately, Zoro was right. After Sanji cooled off in the shopping district, taking some extra time browsing through filet knives, he turned his attention to the more unsavory part of town. He purposefully ignored the small hanging sign that said _Abby’s_ and moved on down the street. He stopped into a place called _Diva’s Divine_ but bowed out gracefully when the first woman that spoke to him had a gap between her front teeth the size of his thumb.

Two more places with even less appealing women and conditions later, he stood in front of _Abby’s_. Small droplets of rain hit his face and he sighed heavily. There really was nothing else unless he wanted skanky girls, or to pick up a chick at some bar. It was almost worth it to go through the trouble to spite Zoro’s suggestion, but he was tired, and he wanted to get inside before his clothes were ruined. 

He climbed the steps and pulled the door open. The smell of cooking and sweet perfume hit Sanji’s senses as he entered the place and closed the door behind him. He brushed the rain off his jacket and turned to greet a pretty blonde wearing a black and white striped apron over her green corset and thigh-high fishnets.

Sanji salivated a little as she smiled and offered her hand.

“Hello Sir,” she said sweetly. “My name is Chloe. Thank you for gracing us this evening with your time and presence.”

Sanji took her hand and kissed the back of her knuckles. “The pleasure is all mine.”

“Yes, it definitely will be,” came a voice from the top of the stairs. 

Sanji looked up to see two tall women standing on the stair case, one with long brown hair and darkly tanned skin, and the other with red hair and freckles. They both smiled down at him and the redhead flipped her long, straight locks over her shoulder.

“You must be Sanji,” she said, her voice husky.

Sanji closed his eyes and breathed deep to keep himself under control. Of course the fucking asshole swordsman would tell the girls all kinds of stupid shit to set him up for failure.

The cook smiled politely and slipped his hands into his pockets.

“I can assure you ladies that my crewmate is completely-”

“Oh, no need to explain,” Chloe giggled and took his arm. “He was a gentleman and the advance payment he left for you was enough to get us interested.”

Sanji almost choked.

“Ad… advance… payment?”

The redhead descended the stairs and moved towards the cook slowly. Her pointed heels clicked softly on the wooden floors. 

“He said to take care of you because you’d be stressed, and by the looks of it, he was right.” She ran a thumb over his chin and the cook couldn’t help but smile down into her bright green eyes.

“Oh! Is this him!?” A small girl with black ringlets and almond- shaped eyes emerged from another room. She too had on an apron over nothing but black lace panties and a beaded choker. “Oh my God, he’s even more handsome than he said!” She rushed across the room and happily tucked herself under Sanji’s free arm.

Sanji frowned, confusion clouding what should have been the beginnings of a high.

“Handsome? Zoro said I was handsome?”

“Zoro said a lot of things about you, Sanji.” The tan girl on the stairs descended as well and moved to sit provocatively on the front desk. The pink underwear she wore left nothing to the imagination, and the t-shirt she had on rode up enough to expose the lower swell of her breasts. Her nipples were hard and pushed enticingly against the thin fabric. 

“But I’m mostly interested in what he said about your cooking.”

Sanji blinked stupidly at the beautiful girl.

“Come again?”

Chloe squealed and started to pull him towards a side door.

“Zoro said you were a cook and could help us make dinner! We haven’t had a well cooked meal in months! We started this recipe that Lily had in one of her books, but we don’t know if we should put the meat in a shallow pan, or-”

“LADIES!!”

Everyone, including Sanji, whirled around to face a stern woman with white hair and a very intimidating scowl. She folded her arms over her chest and cleared her throat.

“I know what the gentleman said earlier, but it is up to Mr. Sanji what will transpire throughout the evening. Our services have been paid for, and every move you make is at his discretion. Now, let him go, so we can talk business.”

Sanji was still a little blown away by the attention and the flattery and the wonderful feel of women’s skin and hair, but he managed to compose himself and slip his arms around Chloe and the dark-haired girl’s shoulders.

“Madam… Abby? I presume?” She nodded and Sanji continued. “If it is true that these beautiful ladies have not had a decent meal in months, I feel it is my duty as a cook, and as a man, to make sure that they are fed properly before tending to any needs of mine. I only ask to see your selection of wines, and that you give me full access to your kitchen and pantry.”

Fuck Zoro. He set this up just to be an asshole, but guess what? Sanji was going to take it! He was absolutely going to have a night of beautiful woman at his beck and call, even if it was on the idiot swordsman! _Suck on that you fucking douche, I’ll show these ladies a good time with YOUR money!!_

Abby put her hands on her hips and regarded him with a slight tilt of her head.

“I guess whatever floats your boat.” She waved him and the girls off. “Get to it.”

The two girls wrapped around Sanji’s waist giggled as the cook was escorted into the kitchen.

* * *

Sanji’s thumb disappeared into the tanned girl’s mouth. She sucked the last bit of chocolate from his skin and moaned appreciatively. She had introduced herself as Camren during Sanji’s cooking lesson, and the blond pirate had found she had a raging sweet tooth as he prepared desert.

“I can’t believe you can make something this decadent with bread!” She licked her lips and crossed one leg over the other.

The dark-skinned brunette was spread out on her back on the coffee table, her head hanging off the edge almost into Sanji’s lap. She was completely naked and Sanji was tempted to pluck the container of melted chocolate from the tray behind him and drizzle it over her perfectly toned, caramel body. But it would have been difficult with the tall redhead draped over his shoulders like she was. Instead, he contented himself with feeding the bread and vanilla custard to Camren upside down. Her painted pink lips parted so sweetly to accept his treat, and he loved the flick of her tongue when some of the custard caught on the corner of her mouth.

Sanji and his companions had moved from the dining room to a private lounge in the back of the establishment. Chloe and the dark-haired girl, who introduced herself as ‘Chi Chi’, had both left after dinner, having prior engagements booked, but promised to return if their clients didn’t keep them overnight. The redhead- he had found her name was Cherry, much to his delight and amusement- had ushered Sanji, Camren, and now Lily, a petite beauty with spiky blonde hair, to this back room and closed the doors. The girls had lost most of their clothes, and were having almost as much fun with each other as they were with Sanji.

“Mr. Sanji?” Lily asked from a chair beside him. 

“Please, darling,” Sanji crooned, “just call me Sanji.” 

Lily smiled and leaned forward to brush his bangs from his one visible eye. “Where did you learn to cook like this? I’ve never tasted anything like it.”

Sanji smiled and glanced away, distracted as Cherry released his shoulders and climbed on top of Carmen. She started to kiss down the other girl’s neck, and the darker-skinned girl sighed in delight. The girl’s bodies twisting together made Sanji think of white chocolate and caramel candy with a drizzle of strawberries and a lacy garnish. He was suddenly inspired, and made a mental note to pull out his recipe book when he returned to the ship.

“I learned from my… foster father, I guess you could say. He picked me up when I had nowhere to go, and beat a trade into me so I wouldn’t become a pirate or something worse.” He paused to laugh at how ironic that story was, but was jolted out of his thoughts when Lily’s lips tickled his ear.

“Can I have some more, Sanji? Please?” Her hands were down his shirt. He had taken off his jacket, and his tie had been pulled from around his neck a while ago.

He used one hand to pull her into his lap, her legs straddling his hips. She had nothing on but a pair of rainbow panties, blue high heeled sandals, and a small silver heart on a little chain around her neck. If the other girls were like caramel and white chocolate, exquisite deserts spread out after a banquet to admire as well as taste, then little Lily was a lollipop. She was colorful and fun, sweet and perfect for every occasion. 

Sanji took a small bite of the custard and kissed Lily softly on the lips. She giggled and pried his mouth open with her tongue. She stole the sweet from his mouth expertly and sighed happily as she swallowed and licked her lips.

“If Zoro ever returns, I must thank him for sending you to us. You two must be very close for him to pay for all of this for you.”

Sanji rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t say close. We just saved each other’s lives a couple times. We’re nakama, nothing more.”

Lily’s eyes widened. “Really? But he spoke so highly of you!”

Sanji shook his head, a little uncomfortable at hearing that Zoro was talking about him with brothel girls.

“He’s playing some kind of game with me. I don’t know what his deal is.”

Lily looked thoughtful for a moment, but then shrugged and put her arms around his neck.

“Well, I took good care of him earlier. I can do the same for you, if you wish.”

Sanji set down the plate, immediately interested. “You were the one that was with him earlier?”

Lily nodded. “I would ask if my performance was satisfactory, but if his actions leaving here today said anything, they said I did a hell of a job.”

Sanji grinned and placed his hands firmly on her hips. 

“You blow his mind?”

“Hm,” Lily tilted her head to the side. “I think we both did a little of that. He is quite amazing.”

Instead of growling and getting angry like he should have, Sanji surprised himself by pulling Lily close and whispering against the petite girl’s lips. 

“You wanna show me what you two did together?”

Lily smiled at him and slid off his lap. She backed away and tapped Cherry on the shoulder. The redhead released Camren’s nipple and looked up at Lily, panting softy.

“Can you two move to the couch, please?” Lily asked sweetly.

Cherry looked at Sanji and grinned. She pulled Camren up and the two of them fell onto the dark cushions of the couch against the wall. Cherry ended up in Camren’s lap, her back pressed against the tanned girl’s stomach. Camren slid her hands down Cherry’s body and spread her legs slightly, running her fingers over the soft skin of Cherry’s creamy inner thighs. Sanji appreciated the view, but turned his attention back to Lily.

Something about being with the girl that Zoro had just fucked set Sanji on fire. He was so turned on, it almost hurt. He couldn’t explain why he felt this way, but the thought of touching where Zoro touched, and moving against this girl’s skin the way the swordsman had only hours before, made the cook’s nerves sing with anticipation. It was like a challenge, another way the two of them could fight and they didn’t have to kill each other or damage the ship. He knew it was kind of sick, but he really didn’t care. He was tired of always being second best to Luffy’s first mate; second in bounty, second in rank, second in fighting skill. He was going to play a game and prove to himself, and these girls, that this was something where he stood on even ground with the fucking marimo. 

Lily smiled slyly at him and hooked her thumbs into the top of her panties.

“He sat where you are now, and told me to take off all my clothes. I don’t have much on right now, so I can’t really do a strip tease,” she said as she started to slide the underwear down her thighs, “but I can dance a little for you, if you like.”

Camren giggled and Sanji shifted to a more comfortable position to watch the show. He folded his hands under his chin and watched, riveted as Lily swayed back and forth, her hips grinding against an invisible partner. Her hands were all over her body, running down her throat, teasing her nipples, almost touching the junction between her thighs, but moving away and sliding back up her stomach.

“He told me to sit on the table,” she said, her voice low and her breath coming harder, “spread my legs, and lean back on my hands.”

Sanji smirked. “Well, then… do it.”

Lily smiled and pulled her bottom lip through her teeth. She sat on the coffee table and spread her legs, lifting her knees to bare everything for Sanji’s eyes. She leaned back on her hands and arched her back, pushing her breasts out to him.

Camren and Cherry sighed softly at the sight, and Sanji glanced over to see Camren’s fingers playing with Cherry’s nipples. The red head tangled her fingers into the brunette’s hair, and arched a little herself. The cook grinned and took a sip from his wine glass before he spoke.

“What did he do then?”

Tilting her head back and closing her eyes, Lily sighed and smiled, running her hand down the length of her stomach.

“He told me to touch myself…” Her fingers slid down between her thighs. She rubbed the pink bud of her clit with her middle finger and groaned softly. “I couldn’t do it for very long though; the way he was looking at me and ordering me around was turning me on… kind of like now.”

Sanji finished off the last of his wine and set his glass on the floor next to the chair.

“Show me what you did instead,” he said softly, his voice getting husky from arousal.

Lily lowered her legs to the floor and stood slowly. She moved towards Sanji and crawled back up into the chair, straddling his hips. He slid down slightly to accommodate but didn’t touch her. Instead he rested his hands on the arms of the chair. She took her fingers, still wet from her ministrations, and ran them over Sanji’s lower lip. He flicked his tongue out to taste her, her smell invading his senses.

“He took my hand.” As she spoke, she gently brought his hand between her thighs, placing it over her own which was already rubbing slowly at her soft folds. “He said he wanted to know how I liked it, and the best way to learn was to make me do it myself.” She pressed his hand over hers and Sanji shuddered at the feel of her wetness on his fingers. 

She stroked herself as he copied her movements. She ground her hips in a steady rhythm, brushing now and again against Sanji’s erection. Sanji had to admit to himself that this was kind of brilliant. Doing this gave you a nice view of a hot girl masturbating, while at the same time, you get to finger her- sort of- and to top it all off, she does a little slow dry humping. 

Of course, he was never going to tell the swordsman that.

Sanji leaned forward to run his tongue over one of her nipples. Lily gasped and arched her back against him. Her fingers moved faster, and Sanji could tell she was close to orgasm by the heat of her and the way her body had started to tremble violently. Her head fell back and the cook feasted on her neck as she cried out softly. Her free hand threaded through his hair, pulling roughly, but Sanji loved it. His fingers slid past hers and pushed gently inside of her. She shrieked in pleasure and came, her inner muscles clamping down around him.

“ _Oh God… oh god…_ ” she whispered against his mouth, sounding slightly surprised in addition to everything else. 

Sanji smiled as he kissed her. “What next, love?”

“He fucked me on the table,” she panted. 

Sanji gently lifted her off his lap and stood. As he backed away and she spread herself out on her back, Sanji removed his shirt and draped it over the back of the chair.

“How many times did he make you come?” he asked, winking at Cherry and Camren. Cherry was a little distracted as Camren’s fingers were teasing her mercilessly, but Camren grinned back at him over the red head’s shoulder.

“Three,” Lily breathed, her arms moving to rest above her head.

“Okay then,” Sanji unbuttoned the top of his pants and moved in to lean over her.

“I’m going for four. Hold your knees.”

* * *

Sunlight filtered in through the curtains, warm and bright on Sanji’s face as he woke. He blinked several times to push the sleep from his eyes and yawned lazily. He smiled softly as he found himself in a tangle of arms and legs, soft skin, and blankets. Lily was curled tight against his side while Cherry was sideways with her legs draped over Sanji’s stomach. Camren was nestled between his legs, her head resting on his inner thigh. Chi Chi lay above his head, her soft hair tickling his cheek and her warm breath caressing the skin of his neck. She had kept her promise and returned immediately after her client had left last night and she had showered. She had proven to be almost as flexible as Sanji himself, and tasted fantastic with a little drizzle of chocolate.

“Mmm… you’re awake,” Lily whispered.

Sanji smiled and reached up to run his fingers over her short hair. “How’d you know?”

Lily sighed and burrowed deeper into his side. “Your breathing. People always breathe deeper when they sleep.”

“Hm…” Sanji closed his eyes once again and listened as Chi Chi stirred.

“Mmm… morning,” she cooed in her lovely soprano.

“Morning,” Sanji and Lily said together as Sanji tilted his head and kissed the dark-haired girl on the forehead.

“You should come again tonight,” Chi Chi said groggily. “You and your friend are way more fun than my other clients.”

Sanji smiled and reached for his pack of cigarettes. Cherry had retrieved them from his jacket pocket shortly before she had passed out. He pulled one free with his teeth and lit up with the lighter he had stuffed inside. 

“Lemme have a drag?” Camren reached for the stick.

Sanji lent it to her after he had inhaled deeply and blown out a few smoke rings into the air above his head. 

“I can’t promise anything,” Sanji said quietly, “but I can try.”

“You should definitely come.” Camren sat up and gave him back his cigarette. “Chloe was pretty sad she didn’t get to play with you, and she doesn’t have any clients after three today.”

“Ezzy’s back from that politician’s house today too,” Cherry added. 

“Oh, Ezzy would _love_ him!” Chi Chi laughed.

“Ezzy?” Sanji asked.

“Esmeralda,” Camren clarified. “She’s a big pirate fan.”

“You should bring your friend,” Cherry grinned. 

“Yes!” Chi Chi piped up. “Bring Zoro with you!”

Sanji chuckled. “I don’t think the Marimo would be too inclined to come with me. We steer pretty clear of each other when we can.”

“Oh, my God!” Chi Chi laughed. “You call him _Marimo!?_ That is so cute!”

“You two would be a blast,” Cherry yawned and sat up. She kept her legs draped over his stomach and started massaging the smooth skin of her calves enticingly. 

“I’m sure Abby would give you a discount if you came together.” 

“Oh, she definitely would!” Chi Chi said excitedly. “After tasting that dinner you cooked for us last night, I bet she wouldn’t even bat an eyelash at the suggestion!”

Sanji thought over their proposal. It definitely sounded good, but there was the matter of getting Zoro to agree with it… and then actually coming here with the idiot…

“Sanjiiii,” Chi Chi whined, “Say you’ll come back tonight with Zoro.”

“I can probably get Abby to give you a room, with four or five of us for the night, at half the price of one person.” Cherry flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Maybe even better if you cook for us; Abby’s been known to give nights for free to men who are especially nice to us.

“You’d just have to promise to bring Zoro with you…”

Sanji’s hand stilled in the act of bringing the cigarette to his mouth. A whole night for him and Zoro for half the price of one person was a pretty fucking good deal. A whole night for him and Zoro, possibly for _free_ , was almost unheard of. There was no way the cook could resist that kind of temptation, even though he’d rather break his back again than ask the swordsman to come with him.

But… it was the _girls_ who asked… It’s not like it was _his_ idea…

“Yeah, okay…” Sanji hugged Lily against him, and squeezed Carmen between his legs gently. “I’ll talk to him.”

* * *

He’d been feeling the chef’s gaze on him for most of the morning and afternoon. Well, _gaze_ wasn’t necessarily the right term. _Glare_ , or perhaps _visual concentration of restrained animosity_ would have worked. But every time he tried to make eye contact with the chef to try and shoo him off, the jerk disappeared in a blur of blond and black.

Zoro supposed Sanji wanted to start some shit over yesterday, but was probably angst-ing over issues of manly pride. Whatever his damage was, he had prevented the swordsman from having at least three of his five morning naps just because his presence was so suffocating.

Lunch came, and when Sanji announced that it was Luffy’s turn to help him with the dishes, Zoro volunteered instead.

Sanji shrugged nonchalantly and said, “Fine, you and Luffy can do the dishes.”

Nami hastily corrected him. “You know the rule.”

Sanji faltered, and then flashed a brilliant smile. “Of course, my duchess! How could I forget? You’re so kind to remind me.”

Luffy hooted in glee at his luck, and Zoro and Sanji were left alone to do the dishes.

“What rule was she talking about?” the swordsman asked as he began clearing plates from the table while Sanji ran the dish water.

The chef scowled and dried his hands on a towel so he could light a cigarette before they started. “At least one person on dish duty has to have a minimum IQ of 95.”

Zoro only snorted and dumped a stack of freshly scraped dishes into the sink, not caring that a big slop of water splashed all over Sanji’s shirt. ”You got something to say about last night, just say it. Stop skulking around the ship and interrupting my naps.”

Sanji took a deep breath through his nose and bit the filter of the cigarette.

_Esmerelda. Esmerelda, Camren and chocolate. Lily and Cherry and cherries. Chi Chi and discounts. Lots and lots of good, affordable sex,_ was the mantra going on inside Sanji’s head as he tried to soak up some of the water off his shirt with a towel. “Shut up and start rinsing.”

Zoro muttered something under his breath and got to rinsing the dishes that Sanji passed to him, then set them to dry in the strainer.

After a few minutes, Sanji took another deep breath. He was _not_ going to pass up this opportunity just because the swordsman was an ape. The girls had liked _something_ about Zoro yesterday, and it was enough of a something that a perhaps once-in-a-lifetime opportunity had been offered to him, if he could just suck it up and ask the Marimo to play along.

“What are you doing tonight?” the chef tried to ask casually.

Zoro slowly looked at him, but Sanji kept his gaze firmly on the sink of soapy dishes.

“Why the fuck do you care?”

The chef’s leg almost moved of its own accord, and the result was that Sanji’s knees awkwardly gave out on him and he had to catch himself on the counter in order to stop from kicking the idiot next to him through the kitchen wall.

“What the hell is wrong with you, shit cook?” Zoro asked, bewildered. 

Sanji glared angrily at the swordsman as he pulled himself up to standing position. “Nothing is _wrong_ with me, asshole. I just asked what you’re doing tonight. Am I not allowed to make conversation, or is that beyond your mental and social capacity?”

Zoro snorted and continued rinsing. “Nothing. I’m outta cash.”

Sanji was slightly dumbfounded. That idiot had spent his _entire_ allowance at _Abby’s_ last night _just_ to spite him and it hadn’t even worked. He chuckled and shook his head.

“You are such an idiot.”

“What?” Zoro growled defensively.

“Nothing. You’re coming with me tonight.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, aho-cook? Don’t order me around-”

“Not my orders. If I could leave you here, believe me, I would. Having you come along is the _last_ thing I want.”

_That_ wasn’t necessarily true, really. He refused to complete the thought whenever it popped into his mind, but ever since the girls had asked him to bring the swordsman, he couldn’t help but wonder what Zoro was like with a woman. Not necessarily even in bed (though he had definitely _never, ever,_ thought about it - and certainly _not_ with growing frequency in the last week or so), but in interaction. He knew how Zoro treated Nami and Robin (terribly, by the way), but it was likely that he behaved differently around women he knew he had a chance to sleep with.

“If you’re just gonna beat around the bush about whatever it is, you can stop wasting my time. Just spit whatever the fuck it is you’re talking about out.”

Sanji sighed and continued to drop dishes in his sink water, even though Zoro had stopped rinsing.

“The girls. They want us to come- … they want us to _go_ together. If we do, we get a discount, maybe even a free night.” He jabbed the soapy spatula he was holding at the swordsman’s chest. “For whatever reason, they _liked_ you. More likely it’s because they’re such lovely ladies and they felt _sorry_ for you. Either way,” he added as he dropped the spatula in the rinsing water, “the condition is that we show up together. And since you so _generously_ put down an advance payment for me last night, I have enough to cover tonight, if we have to pay.”

Zoro opened his mouth to speak, but Sanji stopped him. “But first, I have two conditions.”

“I didn’t even agree yet,” Zoro snapped.

Sanji laughed. “Oh, that’s rich. Then, by all means, turn down a night of free sex with several beautiful girls _just_ because you don’t want to go with me.”

The swordsman opened his mouth several times again to speak, but nothing came out. Finally, he said, “Fine.”

“First - behavior. I will never forgive you if you cause even the slightest bit of damage to that place. So you leave me alone, and I’ll leave you alone. No fighting in front of the girls for any reason, or I’ll kill you.”

Zoro grunted. “Fine. Don’t start shit with me; I won’t start shit with you.”

Sanji continued as if he hadn’t heard the swordsman. “Second, I’m not going anywhere with you looking like that.”

The chef gave him a once over, frowning at his not-so-white t-shirt and slightly tattered pants. His boots were caked in mud, and his general appearance – though intimidating, and not a damper on his overall attractiveness, if you could call it that – did not reflect the chef’s standards at all.

Zoro looked down at himself and back up at Sanji. “They didn’t have a problem with it yesterday.”

“A phenomenon I’m still trying to come to terms with. But if they have to curl their hair, put on make-up, and find nice clothes for _your_ sorry ass, the least you can do is the same for them.”

Zoro’s lip curled and he looked at what the chef was wearing. “You’re not getting me to wear any of your shitty clothes.”

The chef scoffed. “I wouldn’t trust you with my cheapest handkerchief, let alone any of my clothes. Wear that black t-shirt and the newest pants you’ve got. And fucking shine your boots or something.”

Not that Zoro agreed with Sanji’s summation of his wardrobe, or really felt like complying, but the allure of free sex on _top_ of the opportunity to live vicariously through some lucky prostitute was enough to get him to comply – albeit with a less than enthusiastic attitude.

* * *

The chef was awash in guilt and excitement. The usual I’m-spending-the-money-Nami-gave-me-on-a-brothel-house guilt and excitement, in addition to waging a further internal battle with guilt over exactly what _part_ of tonight had gotten him so excited. He hid his trepidation as he sniffed at Zoro’s appearance.

Zoro shrugged as he walked out of the men’s bunk, not seeing the difference this outfit made over the other. “I’m just gonna end up naked anyway.”

Sanji did his best to restrain himself and walked down the ramp, Zoro at his heels. 

As if to get it all out of their system before they stepped foot in _Abby’s_ , they bickered and snarled at each other the entire walk there. It was pathetically petty stuff – ‘You’re standing too close to me’ and ‘Why do you have to be such a dick’ among other things.

Sanji gave Zoro one last sneer before adopting a more charming countenance as he stepped inside _Abby’s_.

It was difficult to tell whether or not Abby was pleased, amused, or aggravated to see them. Whichever it was, she was resigned in equal measure.

Zoro stood back as Sanji did the talking, grinning as a few familiar faces peeked at them from around a corner, followed by high pitched giggling. He saw Lily, who winked at him and waved. She kept inclining her head at him and raising her eyebrows.

“That’s more than generous of you, we couldn’t possibly accept-”

“We’ll take it,” Zoro grunted, tired of standing around. If he let the shit-cook go on much longer, they’d not only have to pay, but they’d probably end up paying more than the usual rate.

Sanji whirled around with impending death written on his face, but Abby clapped her hands and suddenly there was a whirl of activity. Several girls tumbled out into the hallway, as if they’d had their ears pressed against the door. Abby frowned, and then started giving orders.

“Cherry and Chi Chi, prepare the upstairs lounge. Remember, Chi Chi, you have an appointment later this evening, so you will have to leave after dinner. You will join Lily when you are done with the lounge. Chloe and Ezzy, set up the Moonlight and Midnight rooms. You will join Camren in the kitchen when you are done. Camren, show Mr. Sanji to the kitchens, and Lily, keep Mr. Roronoa company in the massage room until all the rooms are prepared and Mr. Sanji is finished in the kitchen.” 

There was a minor moment of confusion when some of the girls bumped into each other in a scramble, and they burst into giggles again. Eventually, Camren wrapped herself around Sanji’s arm and sauntered off, while Lily took Zoro’s hand and led him down another hallway.

* * *

Camren smiled happily as she sat on a stool, one long, gorgeous, tan leg crossed over the other. She bit her lip in a way that made Sanji’s heart thump wildly as he prepare a simple glazed ham. He sang a tune as he whirled around the kitchen (somewhat familiar grounds now after the previous evening).

The brunette swayed playfully as Sanji crooned;

_I know I stand in line until you think you have the time to spend an evening with me,_  
And if we go some place to dance, I know that there’s a chance you won’t be leaving with me,  
Then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place and have a drink, or two  
And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like ‘I love you’. 

She laughed as he swirled her way, waving a whisk dramatically. He took her hand, kissing it gently.

“You know, we haven’t had patrons as nice as the two of you for as long as I’ve been here. I swear we’ve never had so much fun. That’s why Abby didn’t mind setting this up.”

The chef shook his head. “It is absolutely our pleasure. I’m not sure what it is about my good-for-nothing crewmate that you lovely goddesses _aren’t_ offended by, but rest assured that I am eternally grateful to be allowed to spend yet another evening with such wonderful angels.”

Camren giggled (Sanji loved the sound of it) and flipped her brunette locks back. “It’s so funny though! According to Lily, Mr. Roronoa had nothing but good things to say about you. And then, of course, you proved it all to be true last night. What is it about macho-men?”

Sanji wasn’t inclined to argue with a woman as beautiful as Camren, but he hadn’t been able to figure that part out yet. He hesitated for a moment, then said, “He was probably setting me up or something, hoping I’d look bad in front of you-”

“Oh no, no, no,” Camren shook her head, earnest disagreement written on her face. “You wouldn’t say that if you talked to Lily. But… well, I’m not supposed to talk about other customers,” she smiled, apologetically. “But…” Her voice took on a decidedly seductive tone. “We do have a surprise for you tonight. It was Lily’s idea.”

Sanji raised an eyebrow, but then shook his head, more at himself than anything. Here he was, cooking for several gorgeous women, preparing for a night of highly hedonistic proportions, and he was thinking about his caveman marimo crewmate. That would not do at all.

He switched topics.

“What would my goddesses like for dessert?”

* * *

Zoro was _not_ getting a massage in the massage room. That much was certain.

Lily had planted the swordsman on a chair, then proceeded to plant _herself_ in his lap, wrapping her thin arms around his strong neck, planting kisses where she could and running her small hands up his shirt.

He was surprised when she whispered, “Thought I’d tell you something interesting about your friend…”

* * *

Chloe and Esmerelda had joined Camren and Sanji in the kitchen, and together they brought the dishes and food up to the upstairs lounge (Sanji made sure to carry the heavy dishes, and refused to let Chloe bring up the plates, opting instead to run back down and grab them himself once they’d brought up everything else).

By the time he made it back upstairs to the lounge (plates balanced precariously on his head, two bottles of wine in each hand), Lily, Zoro, Chi Chi and Cherry had joined them, and the girls were arguing about how to lay the food out on the table.

A weird knot formed in the chef’s stomach as he watched Zoro sitting back with a girl in each arm. He looked good, although the chef hated to admit it. If that bastard would just dress like that more often, and try not insulting each woman he came across with his rude manner, chances were he might even come across as _cool_.

But then again, Sanji was not thinking about Zoro. He was very much concentrating on Esmerelda and her generous, ample, luscious form. And Camren, who winked at him as she bent over to rearrange the table setting. And Chi Chi, who batted her long, black eyelashes at him as she took two of the wine bottles from him.

The girls seemed to sense that it was up to them to steer the conversation, and as it was, Sanji need not have worried about himself and Zoro fighting, since they barely had time to do anything but steal glances at each other while they thought the other wasn’t looking. Zoro, in fact, barely spoke an (audible) word, and seemed content to eat, whisper with the girl who was closest to him at the time, and drink.

When the first few courses were completed, Sanji and Cherry retrieved the dessert and another two bottles of wine (really, four was nothing for Zoro and Sanji by themselves, let alone six girls). As soon as the platter of strawberry shortcake hit the table, Esmerelda said, “A game! Let’s play a game with dessert!”

The rest of the girls squealed in agreement. Sanji glanced at Zoro, who just shrugged.

The chef snorted. 

“Very well, ladies. What shall it be?”

“I’ve got one!” Chi Chi said, and several of the girls groaned. “What?”

“But you always make it so complicated!” Lily protested, her pout too adorable for Sanji to bear. But Chi Chi’s pout wasn’t something he could stand for either. 

“Well, since Miss Chi Chi has to leave, perhaps we should let her pick the game,” Sanji offered.

The girls agreed that this was fair.

“Well,” the pale, black haired girl said, “It’s a combination of several games.”

“Oh, here we go,” Cherry rolled her eyes. “Does it involve math?”

“I wouldn’t put you through the trouble, since you can’t do basic elementary-” Chi Chi snapped.

“Ladies,” Esmerelda said, giving them a warning glance. “Let’s not argue. Let Chi Chi explain the game.”

Chi Chi cleared her throat. “ _As I was saying_ , it’s a combination of several games. The first person is asked a quiz question – and no math, apparently – by the person on their left. If they get it wrong, they must remove an article of clothing. When you’re down to your last article of clothing, you have to give a strip tease. If they get it right, you move on. However, in order to pass the turn along, you must take a bite of short cake, and feed it to the person on your right. Then it is your turn to ask the person you’ve just fed cake to a quiz question. The game is over when you are out of cake. No winners, no losers. If you end up naked before we’re out of cake, you have to do a dance every time you get a question wrong. Make sense?”

“Wait,” Zoro said. It was the first real word he’d spoken all evening, so all eyes were on him. He looked at Sanji. “I’m wearing three things. He’s probably wearing sixteen.”

Sanji’s lip curled. “Then don’t get your answers wrong, Marimo.”

The girls twittered at that. Lily whispered to Esmerelda, “See? I told you he calls him that!”

Before Zoro had a chance to make a comeback, Chi Chi said, “I agree. I think Mr. Sanji should remove his jacket and tie. Wait,” she said abruptly, before looking back at Zoro, and biting her lip. “Only three?” 

Zoro raised an eyebrow. “Yeah.” He pointed to his shoes, “One,” then his pants, “two,” then his shirt, “three.”

Chi Chi smiled, and the girls began giggling again. Sanji wasn’t sure what was-

Oh.

“Always go commando, Marimo-kun, or just for special occasions?”

Zoro rolled his eyes and leaned back on his arms. “Whatever. If you want a handicap that bad, you can have it.”

“Oooooh,” Cherry said, her eyes twinkling as she sidled up to Sanji. “Are you gonna take that?” 

Sanji yanked at his tie and snorted. “If you want to see me naked that bad, fine.” 

He shrugged off his jacket and stood up, toeing off his shoes and socks. “Pants, underwear, shirt. We’re even.”

“That settles it!” Chi Chi declared, cutting out a piece of the short cake and putting it on a plate to take with her. “You kids have fun, I’m off! I’ll come back later if I can.”

Zoro extracted himself from Lily and Chloe and stood along with Sanji as Chi Chi headed out. She stood on her tip toes as she gave them both a peck on the cheek then left.

Once they were settled back down, Esmerelda said, “Now to decide who goes first.”

Chloe smiled deviously and said, “I think it should be you, since you have the biggest boobs.”

Before the voluptuous brunette could argue, the rest of the girls had already agreed, which meant that Cherry got to ask the first quiz question.

She tapped one manicured fingernail on her red lips and ‘hm’ed. “Okay… Oooh! How long - in miles - is the Grand Line?”

Esmerelda sighed and rolled her eyes. “How am I supposed to know that?”

Cherry grinned. It soon became apparent that each girl would ask the next girl almost impossible questions for the exact purpose of getting them to remove clothes. Sanji sat back and sighed happily, enjoying the view of shoes, stockings, and various other articles of clothing disappearing, along with the delicious sight of one girl taking a bite of shortcake and passing it to the next girl, either via humorous tongue wrangling or simply kissing.

Chloe slid her stockings down her curvy thighs, slipping them all the way off and tossing them playfully at Esmerelda. She sat down and tapped her cheek with her finger, trying to think of a question. When this didn’t produce immediate results, Sanji motioned her over and whispered something in her ear, eyeballing Zoro as he did so. 

She smiled and winked, then asked the swordsman as she sashayed back to her seat, “Alright Zoro… What direction do you take to get from _Abby’s_ back to the docks?”

Zoro’s nostrils flared, but it was his only outward sign of annoyance. He didn’t bother to answer the question, instead only leaning forward and pulling his shirt off.

The girls laughed, and Lily and Chloe immediately took advantage of his lack of clothing to run their hands down his chest.

Sanji rolled his eyes. Zoro probably did know the answer – for once. He managed to make it to _Abby’s_ the first time, the jerk was just trying to show off. He leaned forward to pour Camren another glass of wine when something about the scene before him made him stop. 

Chloe had taken a bite of cake and was leaning in to pass it to Zoro. 

The chef hadn’t realized how awkward the notion of Zoro kissing someone actually was until he was faced with the reality. Several things floated through Sanji’s mind then.

He’d never seen Zoro kiss anyone before and, oddly enough, the cords of his neck seemed ridiculously attractive when he leaned his head that way. How did the swordsman manage to look so god damn nonchalant with his mouth full of short cake and a gorgeous woman’s tongue? Why did the way he breathed in when he kissed her somehow look so… satisfying?

Even the way the swordsman was looking at Chloe, or the way he licked his lips when they parted, was like seeing Zoro as an entirely new animal. 

This was Zoro being… sexy. 

Well, Sanji thought as he finished pouring the glass and handed it to Camren with a smile, _sexy_ was a strong word. And probably not the one he was looking for. Nope. Probably not. 

He didn’t hear the question Zoro asked Lily, nor did he pay attention when she purposely got it wrong. But he still had the presence of mind to look at her as she playfully removed her top. He gazed at her appreciatively, but managed to find something else to look at as the swordsman passed her the cake.

* * *

Zoro could tell that the chef had just exited his comfort zone. They were both down to their trousers. But he’d gotten the last question wrong – how to spell Mariejois, of all the damn things – and the blond was now down only to his boxer-briefs. Not that he hadn’t seen the chef in less – with such close living quarters, it was inevitable. It was never a big deal before, but their understandable states of arousal were a bit difficult to hide.

Not that Zoro hadn’t seen _that_ either. It’s why he’d learned early on to shove a chair up against the bathroom door.

So, as Esmerelda removed her final article of clothing, exposing her impressive breasts to the other girls’ catcalls, she said with finality, “Alright ladies and gentlemen, since we’re out of short cake, I’m going to call the game. I know Chi Chi said there aren’t any winners, but since Lily managed to get out of this with her panties still on, we’ll let _her_ choose which gentleman gets first pick tonight.”

Lily cackled triumphantly and got up, along with the rest of the girls, forming a line on one side of the table. She rubbed her hands together and looked from Sanji, to Zoro.

“Alright… we’ll do this the fair way. Pick a number between one and seven. Sanji!”

“Three.”

“Zoro?”

“Seven.”

“The number was 2, so Sanji wins!”

He stood up and threw a smug grin at the swordsman, who shrugged.

“Well, since she seems to be such a source of luck,” and, mostly, because Zoro had seemed so keen to plaster himself to the pixie-haired girl all night, “I’ll ask the lovely Lily to accompany me.”

Lily grinned and tip- toed over to the chef.

In the end, Sanji departed with Lily, Camren and Chloe, while Zoro left with Esmerelda and Cherry.  
They were led down the hall – Zoro to the Midnight Room, and Sanji to the Moonlight Room.

* * *

Lily’s words from earlier were still ringing in Zoro’s head – as they had been all throughout dinner - as the two naked women beckoned him inside.

 _“Thought I’d tell you something interesting about your friend,”_ she had panted into his ear as she straddled his lap, kissing softly at his ear. _“He fucked me just because I told him that you fucked me. He wanted to know exactly what you did to me – where you touched me. How many times you made me come. Then he fucked me just like you did… but he made me come four times. He was pretty turned on by it.”_

The swordsman hadn’t understood why she’d told him, but it’d made him instantly hard, which she and Cherry had been more than happy to help him with.

_“I don’t think he gets it yet,”_ the blonde girl had said as Cherry had sunk to her knees in front of Zoro. _“But-”_ she leaned in close and let her tongue dance momentarily across the swordsman’s lips, _“I’m not sure you do, either.”_

He’d been pissed to see Sanji choose her first. The bastard had probably done it just to be contrary. 

But he let it go, determined to press her for more information before he left. He toed his boots off at the door and let the girls coax him towards the bed (not that he really _needed_ much coaxing).

Esmerelda slid onto the satin sheets, stretching out like a cat, running her hands over her breasts and sighing happily. Cherry smiled at him coyly as she sank, once again, to her knees before him, toying momentarily with the waistband before slipping it over his erection and pulling them down, letting Zoro step out of them before setting them aside.

From the bed, Esmerelda said, “Your friend is very handsome.”

Cherry agreed. “Yes… he is.” She slid her hands up Zoro’s thighs and smiled at the raised eyebrow this statement elicited from him. “Just like you told me and Lily the other night… And he was so interested to hear about how you fucked Lily senseless.”

Zoro hissed as Cherry wrapped her red lips around the head of his member, her eyes burning with an ‘I’ve-got-your-number’ expression. 

Esmerelda moaned as she cupped one breast and spread her legs slightly, her other hand rubbing at the inside of her thigh. “I bet it turns you on to think about him wanting to touch the same girl you touched,” she sighed, arching her back slightly and throwing her head back, exposing her elegant neck.

Zoro had obviously been found out by these particularly clever brothel girls, but he wasn’t going to fight it. He could play this game, and he could like it. He cupped Cherry’s cheek and stepped back, pulling her up gently. He’d been wanting to taste her pretty lips all night, so he kissed her thoroughly, running his hands down her sides and settling on her hips.

Her body rose to meet his, and she let herself be laid down on the bed as well.

“What else did you and your friends come up with?” the swordsman asked as Esmerelda’s long limbs quickly tangled with Cherry’s.

* * *

Arms and hands, everywhere. Briefly, and with no small amount of guilt, Sanji wondered if perhaps this might be what it was like with a certain archaeologist. Of one thing he was certain – Robin turned the idea of a hand job on its head.

But it was rude to think of another woman while he was with… multiple other women at the same time. So he focused all of his attention on the woman behind him, and the woman beside him, and the woman on her knees before him. 

He wasn’t the luckiest bastard in the world, but he was close.

“Should we show him, Lily?” Camren asked, her voice low and arriving in warm puffs over his ear.

The blonde smiled at him and looked down at Chloe, who was removing the last vestiges of the chef’s suit. Chloe gathered his trousers as he stepped out of them and placed them over a chair. She pretended to think it over, placing a manicured finger on her lip and pursing her lips prettily.

“Hm, I don’t know.” She turned and grinned at Sanji, who was coaxing Lily into his arms as Camren was placing soft kisses on his shoulders. “Do you like surprises, Mr. Sanji?”

Sanji wasted no time in wrapping one arm around Lily and motioning for Chloe to come closer. “I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I refused a surprise that my angels were so thoughtful to plan for me. I’m yours for whatever you wish to do with me, under one condition.”

Chloe took his hand and yelped happily as he tugged her forward and crushed his lips to hers. “Mmm, what is it?”

“Just call me Sanji.”

“I can do that,” she said, smiling. 

Suddenly all the hands and body warmth were gone; Lily walked over to a vanity up against the wall, opened a drawer and reached inside, as if searching for something. Chloe pulled a chair out in front of the vanity, and Camren gently guided him to sit in it.

He did this all in a mixture of curiosity and excitement. 

“Since you were so curious about your friend’s… _methods_ , we thought we’d give you a front row seat,” Lily grinned impishly, her hand still in the drawer. Then there was a small clicking sound, and she removed her hand and darted to the side of the vanity, stretching one arm out to display her handiwork.

It was then that Sanji noticed the large mirror attached the vanity was not, by any means, a regular mirror. It was a two-way mirror. He could see right through it.

His first reaction was to lunge out of view, but Chloe had just crawled into his lap, and Camren had wrapped her arms around his neck, and now Lily was sauntering toward him with a predatory gleam that would have normally sent him flying in ecstasy. He was stuck, and he’d rather die than toss a woman off his lap, let alone one who looked like she wanted to fuck him into next week.

But if there was anything that could _tempt_ him to commit such an unthinkable act, it was the idea that Zoro could see him through the mirror. And, Sanji assumed in his panic, if _he_ could see Zoro, then Zoro could see him.

Except, even if that were the case with the mirror, Zoro definitely couldn’t see Sanji at the moment. He seemed quite busy, actually. Sanji’s eyes were unavoidably glued, to his growing horror, to the sight of Zoro’s head moving quite skillfully between Esmerelda’s legs, while Cherry was doing something further up with the other woman that was making the chef’s cock jump.

“Don’t worry, they can’t see or hear us. But we can see them,” Camren reassured him, her smile evident in her voice. “Ezzy looks like she’s enjoying that, don’t you think?” The brunette slid her hands from his shoulders down his washboard stomach.

Words weren’t really forthcoming for the chef at that moment, but they weren’t really needed on his part.

Lily added, throwing a glance over her shoulder at what was happening on the other side of the mirror, “Oh, we did that, too.” She looked back at Sanji and winked. “I forgot to tell you that one.”

Chloe’s hand tickled the dumbstruck chef just below his belly button, and she slowly dragged her fingernail up his arm, to his neck and up to his lips. “Why are men so competitive, I wonder?”

“At least you and your crewmate have found a creative way to settle your disputes,” Camren said, coming back around to join Lily.

Sanji swallowed hard. His attention was split down the middle, and in two very different ways. Horror that these gorgeous women actually thought he _wanted_ to see this, and, to make matters worse, that he actually _was_ seeing this. The other half being naked women and a bed and there were three of them and he was so fucking hard and god damn it why did Zoro’s complexion match Esmerelda’s, and how had he convinced Cherry to _do_ that??

The chef was beginning to hatch a way out of it – tell the girls he’d rather focus on them than the idiot marimo, have lots of wild sex, pretend this never happened, then go on his merry way. But then they had all watched as Esmerelda arched her back impossibly far, and Sanji longed to hear the noises she was making. Then they watched intently as the swordsman kissed his way up her body, teasing her nipples mercilessly as he spread her legs wide, which was just the moment when the chef realized to his utter humiliation that he, along with the girls, was craning his neck to get a better view.

He couldn’t take this anymore, he had to do something. His pride wouldn’t allow him to just sit there and watch Zoro fuck some girl into oblivion while three beautiful women sat before him and wished they were being fucked by the swordsman, too.

He scooped Chloe up in his arms and stood up, carrying the girl over to the vanity and setting her on it.

“You think she likes it?” he said into her ear.

“I think she’s probably never felt anything like it,” she answered, her eyes burning.

“I’ll do it better.”

* * *

Lily stroked Chloe’s head as the girl drifted off to sleep. She looked around the room, hoping Abby would give them a reprieve from cleaning it in the morning. Chairs and items were knocked over everywhere, the torn pillow case was in shreds on the floor, and they’d probably have to replace the mattress.

She had to admit, the blond man had outdone himself. She was sure he’d been waiting all night for her to say that he’d outdone the swordsman, too, but she couldn’t say that. To her, at least, it was useless to make such comparisons. Zoro would probably want to know the same thing, but she wouldn’t have an answer for him, either. Besides, house policy prevented her from telling clients how they compared.

It was most frustrating to see that neither man was asking the right question. 

Sanji stirred and looked at Lily, reaching for her hand and bringing it to his lips.

“Not tired?”

She exhaled and smiled. “I’m exhausted, and in the best way possible.” She looked over at Camren, who was curled up on Sanji’s other side, sleeping soundly. “We haven’t had this much fun in so long.”

The chef smiled, and Lily, not for the first time, marveled at his good looks. He had warmth in him, which was more beautiful than anything. Perhaps he was still new to being a pirate. She hoped he would be able to keep that warmth as long as possible.

“So why such animosity between two men who seem so similar?” 

His smile didn’t falter, but his brow creased, as though he didn’t know the answer himself.

“You don’t have to worry, my goddess. We’re nakama, we’re together in the end.”

Lily smiled and curled deeper into the blankets. “That’s good. Maybe somewhere along the way,” she yawned, “one or both of you will figure it out.”

* * *

Zoro didn’t get his chance to interrogate Lily before Sanji was pushing them out the door. They bade their goodbyes, thanked Abby, and headed toward the Sunny.

The walk back was far quieter, both embroiled in their own thoughts.

It wasn’t until a few hundred yards from the ship that a large merchant bumped into Sanji quite by accident, causing him to bump into Zoro, who managed to find a way to take it personally, and then all hell broke loose.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Zoro had Sanji down to a T. He knew the cook's moods like he knew his own. Even on the rare occasion he was wrong, it was almost _natural_ to correct himself once he’d figured out that no, Sanji wasn’t going to be this or that today, he was going to be something else instead. Proceed as usual from there. Lather, rinse, repeat.

It didn’t look that way on the outside. Anyone else might have suspected Zoro of being ignorant of how the chef operated, if only because of how often the swordsman managed to push all of Sanji’s no-no buttons. But anyone else didn’t realize that Zoro did it purposely.

If Zoro didn’t understand Sanji so thoroughly, and had no interest in pestering Sanji whenever it suited his whim, the two probably would have gotten on much better. But the swordsman wasn’t interested in being Sanji’s pal.

At the moment, however, it wasn’t particularly important what Zoro did - or did not - want from the chef. Even if he knew, he wouldn’t know how to go about getting it, because for the past three days, Sanji had been different.

Well, Zoro felt a better word would have been closer to ‘psychotic’, but the semantics weren’t important.

He hadn’t been particularly violent, just… oddly distracted. Zoro would, at random times, realize the shit-cook was looking at him - intently. And what was worse, the chef wouldn’t look away if Zoro looked right back at him. It was as if Sanji didn’t register that Zoro had caught him staring.

After that, who knew? It was different every time. The first time Sanji seemed to be highly confused. He shook his head at the swordsman and then walked away. The next time he flared his nostrils, sneered, and again, walked away. 

The _next_ time it had happened, they were in the kitchen together and the chef had a cup of coffee in his hand. He stared for a few moments before the coffee cup suddenly shattered in his grip. The cook didn’t seem to realize anything unusual had happened and, again, he shook his head and walked away.

It only got worse from there. Recently he’d begun muttering things. Usually incomprehensible, but once or twice Zoro heard him say, “A cold day in hell…” and “No. No, no, no.”

Usually Zoro would confront such weird behavior, but something just didn’t seem right. The chef was off-kilter, and Sanji was dangerous on his normal days. He’d be pushing it to think he’d come out of a fight with psycho-chef unscathed. Not that the swordsman didn’t like a challenge, but it was similar to picking a fight with a rabid dog. There was no point and no gain.

On the fourth day, Zoro expected more of the same, but it was like none of it had ever happened. The chef was back to his old snarky, shitty self. And lest he revert back to his abnormal state, Zoro decided to let it slide, writing it off as maybe being oversexed after leaving Abby’s. Who knew, maybe one of the girls had slipped him something. Whatever it was, it was too much trouble for Zoro to deal with.

He’d fully expected to go back to having their sexual needs tended to separately – go at separate times, not discuss it, pretend the other one didn’t exist in a sexual realm, and move on. But when Sanji kept going ahead on his shopping trips to scope out locations whenever they docked, and then came back with reservations made for the both of them, the swordsman didn’t object.

Outside of that, nothing really changed. Mostly. Aside from the fact that details from their brothel excursions often carried over into their arguments and fights, and usually just reverted to more shows of one-upmanship.

So when they finally reached Lily Bloom Island a month after Abby's, they both expected the usual. Sanji went ahead with Franky and Nami to do some shopping, and Zoro stayed behind with the rest of the crew to haul out old crates so they’d be ready for the supplies when Sanji got back. It was raining heavily, and for a place named Lily Bloom Island, Zoro couldn’t see anything remotely pleasant or floral about it. It looked scummy and shady, at least from the Sunny. The buildings looked run down, and the people passing by on the dock all looked to be of questionable character. This wasn’t the town to find a good brothel. At best, you might find a bar where the risk of getting stabbed was considerably lower than getting shot. 

When the chef returned looking disgusted and soaked, Zoro knew they probably weren’t getting any at this island.

As soon as they were alone, with the necessaries packed away and dinner served, Sanji sat down across the table from the swordsman, looking somewhat hesitant. 

“What.”

The chef rubbed the back of his neck and pulled out a cigarette.

“There’s only one place, and it’s fucking expensive.”

“So? I wouldn’t touch a girl from this shitty place anyway.”

"Oi," Sanji snapped in warning. “I already made a reservation.”

“What?”

“I felt bad. There were only two decent girls, and it looked like they hadn’t gotten any business in months, so I booked them.”

“It was expensive because you _looked_ like you could pay it, showing up in a shithole wearing a suit. They can’t possibly be expensive _and_ run their business on this island at the same time. You got played, and now you want me to pay for your dumb-ass mistake.”

“It’s better than nothing, you ungrateful asshole. I got soaked trying to find a brothel in this dump.”

Zoro bit back the rest of his argument as Nami came in.

“Well, they pretty much cleaned us out, so I can only give you guys a quarter of your allowance.” She set two bags of beli on the table, a scowl planted firmly on her face. “I swear to God, I will never step foot on this island again. Their products are a quarter of the quality for four times the cost. We got ripped. _And_ Franky got a cold out there walking around in the rain, so you’re on midnight watch tonight Zoro.” 

She turned and left.

Sanji sent a warning kick at Zoro under the table as the pissed off swordsman got up to go after her and argue.

“What the fuck?”

“It doesn’t matter if you’re on watch tonight now or not, because now we don’t have enough money to pay.”

Zoro sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I hate this fucking place.”

Sanji chewed on the end of his cigarette - an indication that he was pouting, but was too polite to say anything that could be misconstrued as negative towards his Nami-swan.

The swordsman thought for a moment, an idea forming in his head and his stomach twisting excitedly along with it.

“Come on,” he said abruptly, and stood up.

“What?”

“Do you want to get laid or not? Bring your money and let’s go.”

* * *

Zoro’s plan went so well, he half suspected that some higher power he didn’t believe in had been involved.

Sanji did everything short of refusing to go to get the swordsman to tell him his plan, but Zoro kept walking in the cold rain and remained silent. When they got inside, the… madam? Sir? The _owner_ of the establishment rushed forward and put his/her arm around Sanji and immediately began apologizing.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Mr. Sanji. I do apologize, but the second girl you booked was already scheduled for this evening, but it wasn’t in the schedule. I would be happy to offer you a discount on the first girl-”

“No business in months, eh?” Zoro muttered sourly under his breath. Sanji shot him a nasty look. 

“We’ll just take the one girl,” the swordsman informed the flurried owner, who then (politely) excused himself to fetch her and left them to stand in the middle of the entrance.

“Excuse me? What do you mean, we’ll just take the _one_ girl? I’m not waiting around out here while you do your business-”

“Who says you’re going to wait out here?” Zoro raised his eyebrow at the chef nonchalantly.

Sanji gaped, then opened and closed his mouth several times. “You- what? I’m not-”

“Good evening, gentlemen, my name is Bianca. Why don’t you follow me and we’ll get you out of those wet clothes and into something a little more comfortable?”

Bianca – a midheight, curvy girl with long, strawberry blonde hair – smiled at them from the hallway, and beckoned them forward with one manicured finger. She wore… well, even Sanji with his various experiences couldn’t quite figure out what she was wearing. It looked like it might have once been a black swimsuit but, the only thing left of it were two strips of fabric that came down over her breasts, and met in the middle where the bottom part of the bikini was. The bottom piece was edged with rhinestones, and straps of black fabric criss-crossed twice down each leg before ending in a ridiculously high pair of heels.

It was complicated and attractive to look at, but at the same time, spoke volumes about the kind of place this was.

Zoro was pleased with it if only for the fact that it had distracted Sanji long enough to at least get them both down the hall with Bianca and into a bedroom.

* * *

Sanji momentarily dismissed everything from his mind except the woman in front of him. Those tiny strips of fabric might just as well not have been there. They were just begging to be removed. And when she turned around... he got to watch her walk all the way down the hall, swishing her hips in a way that didn't leave much room in his mind for anything else.

The chef wasn't jerked back into reality until the door was shut behind him, and suddenly Bianca, whom he had been about to pull into _his_ arms, was suddenly in _Zoro's_ arms. Zoro's _shirtless_ arms. When the hell had he taken it off and why the hell was he still here?

Now he was kissing her. Sanji thought that was rather ballsy. Just scooping her up like that, regardless of the fact that the chef was still standing there. And pretty Bianca was running her hands down his stomach and fiddling with... his pants...

Sanji wasn't demure, by any means, but it did take him a moment to register that yes, Zoro did intend for him to stay in the room while business was being conducted.

The swordsman shot Sanji a look – a smug, infuriating smile that said, ‘Lookey what I’m doing’ – and not only did it make the chef want to kick Zoro’s ass, but it made his stomach muscles clench in a way that he wasn’t used to them clenching in association with a man, let alone Zoro. Something about the look in his eyes, the fact that he could see the marimo’s evil smile under that kiss…

Bianca stepped back and turned to Sanji.

“So, do you usually just watch, or…” she feigned a pouty look, “am I not your kinda girl?”

Sanji only needed that much encouragement before he told himself to just fuck it all and go with it. He threw Zoro a ‘watch this’ look, pulled off his jacket and yanked at his tie.

* * *

There was too much competition between the two men for there to have been any room for awkwardness or hesitation. Needless to say, Bianca probably had no idea what she’d gotten herself into, but she made no complaints as Sanji’s hand squeezed her thigh and he kissed at her neck, thrusting leisurely into her and coaxing her down from her orgasm. Her knees trembled despite the fact that Zoro was supporting her from behind, his large arms wrapped around her waist firmly, a hand frequently sliding up her stomach to cup her breasts and tease at her nipples.

She let her head fall back on the swordsman’s shoulder, and shuddered as Zoro ran his tongue down one side of her neck while Sanji did the same on the other side.

“Mmm… I don’t believe you two when you say you don’t do this all the time. You’re both so… in sync,” she sighed, her voice saturated with lust.

Not for the first time that evening, black eyes met blue for just a brief moment, then pretended it hadn’t happened.

* * *

Zoro left first, since he needed to get back to the ship. They’d spent four hours with Bianca, but Sanji was going to stay the night since the owner insisted they accept a free overnight stay to make up for his mistake.

The chef was standing at the window, looking at the moon in the night sky and smoking a cigarette. If there wasn’t a window in the room, he would usually step outside to smoke, but if windows were handy, and the ladies didn’t mind, he would just relax on the sill and enjoy a leisurely smoke while his nerves sang happily from nicotine and good sex.

Tonight, his nerves were definitely singing, but there was a new melody in his veins, and he couldn’t figure out if he was enjoying it or not.

“You’re a man with a lot on your mind,” Bianca said, gazing up at the chef from the bed. She was wrapped in a sheet, lying on her belly and looking like the most beautiful thing Sanji could think of at the moment.

Sanji exhaled and smoke wafted out the window. He smiled and flicked the cigarette out the window. “I’ve got you on my mind which, understandably, keeps a man like me quite preoccupied.” He walked over to the bed and climbed back in, pulling the sheet away and placing kisses up her spine. She sighed happily and let Sanji settle himself on top of her, molding herself to his form.

“Funny, because I was sure it was _him_ on your mind,” she said, her accusation not unhappy in the least.

Sanji snorted, but couldn’t come up with anything to say. She was right, but he was still trying to work out what had just happened himself.

“I don’t judge, you know. I think it’s-”

Sanji sat up and gently but firmly flipped the redhead onto her back. He took her wrists in his hands and pinned her hands above her head. He kissed her deeply and gently moved his knee between hers, spreading her legs and settling himself in between. He pulled back and said, “You seem to have gotten the wrong idea, my lady.” He freed one hand by taking both of her wrists in his right, while his other drifted down to cup her face. “Why would I be thinking about him when I have the most beautiful woman in the world-” he silently apologized to her because, well, Nami-san, “-lying beneath me?”

He didn’t give her a chance to answer.

* * *

He knew he could count on the swordsman not to make a big deal about it, since the jerk hadn’t blinked an eye at the situation himself. The question was, could he count on himself not to make a big deal about it?

What if it happened again? Why had it happened at all? Was this supposed to be normal? Or just _Zoro’s_ approximation of normal?

On the other hand, it wasn’t exactly Sanji’s first time doing something along those lines. But last time it had been him and another busboy in a dark closet with a passing customer. Two hand jobs and lots of eyes-squeezed-too-tight-to-see later, they were back in the kitchen and pretending it hadn’t happened.

This thing with Zoro had definitely not been like that. They had quite clearly had sex with the same woman, at the same time, and neither of them hid from it. Not at the time, anyway.

The chef rubbed the bridge of his nose and set his cup of coffee down. In what realm of the universe was this okay? And why, _why_ was it that the first thing he remembered about that night was always the moment when Zoro’s hand accidentally brushed his? There was a list – a _list_ for God’s sake - of things he thought of about that night before he even began to remember that he’d had sex with Bianca. 

Gazes joining briefly, knees, thighs, hands, arms accidentally making contact. And God, realizing for the first time that he was tasting more of Zoro on Bianca than of Bianca herself. 

It was as though Zoro had set a trail on the woman’s skin, and before he’d realized it, Sanji found himself following that trail faithfully. Sanji didn’t need cues from the man, that much he knew. But nonetheless, he found himself drawn to the places Zoro had touched her.

He shook his head and abandoned his now cold cup of coffee to begin making lunch.

* * *

This was not Good. This was in no way, in any approximation even _close_ to Good. This was so far into the realm of Bad, that Zoro was worried he might actually have a meltdown. Not a meltdown in the sense that he would fall apart and have to go off in a corner and cry somewhere, but definitely in the sense that he would be so distracted during a fight that he might hurt himself or accidentally stab one of his shipmates’ eyes out because of his sheer lack of concentration. In Zoro’s book, if something was hindering his concentration, there were really only two solutions: Remove himself from the distraction, or Kill It.

Unfortunately, he knew he couldn’t kill Sanji, and what was worse, even though the cook was at the core of his distress, Zoro found that he really didn’t want to. 

The last few towns the Sunny had made port, Zoro and Sanji had gone through their routine with the practiced ease of a well-oiled machine. They had found the perfect way to get the most bang for their buck, (Sanji, by the way, had found that term ludicrously funny) and the two had gotten the evening’s happenings down to a science. 

In the early morning and afternoon, while the crew shopped, Sanji and Zoro usually steered clear of each other until Nami released everyone for their free time. Zoro would always volunteer for the night watch, making it less suspicious when he helped Sanji put away the new supplies. When the cook was satisfied, the two would clean up and go into town together. Sanji insisted on this because he refused to waste precious sexing time looking through mazes of backstreets for a lost swordsman, and Zoro had to be clean. Period.

After finding a place, Zoro and Sanji would pool their money together and buy a single room. Now that they were way past their initial awkwardness, _or—though they tried not to think about it—_ lack _of initial awkwardness_ , they finally had established a good ‘working relationship’ (another term Sanji thought was hilarious). It saved them loads of money, and it just seemed obvious to share. They had also found through their experience that together, they were quite a phenomenon. Before his arrangement with Sanji, Zoro would have never thought that every woman in existence fantasized about two men together, but apparently that’s how it was. The cook had recoiled at the thought in the beginning, but when he saw how hot it made the girls, he started to ease up about the subject slightly, even if he never came close to acting on it. 

With this game they played, they would select a single girl, or sometimes two together, but usually by the end of the evening, their room would have acquired several more. Since most places had you pay up front, the extra company was unplanned and therefore _free_.

After Zoro was satisfied, he would bid the ladies farewell, and head back to the ship as best he could for his watch. Sanji would return in the morning to make breakfast, and life would return to the Strawhat’s version of normal. Clean, easy, and if anyone on the ship suspected something fishy, they weren’t saying anything.

Unfortunately though, for Zoro, life was not returning to normal in the mornings anymore. The swordsman had started to catch himself watching the cook at various times of the day. He stared at Sanji’s back as he prepared meals, watched him as he smoked on the deck in the evenings, and the worst part of it was, he really didn’t notice he was doing it until he had been doing it for an _insanely long_ period of time. He knew someone on the ship was inevitably going to notice and call him out on it, so Zoro made himself scarce as often as possible.

Zoro knew he was in trouble when he found himself fantasizing blatantly about Sanji—without a girl in the mix—in the middle of the fucking day, in a populated area. It was a typical afternoon just after lunch, and Zoro was helping the cook wash the dishes as usual. The girls sat behind them at the table, drinking coffee and talking to Chopper, when suddenly Zoro had a perfectly clear image of an unrestrained, naked, _violent_ Sanji wreaking havoc in his head. It was so unexpected that Zoro almost dropped the plate he was drying. 

He froze, not so much worried about the fact that he was fantasizing about Sanji (it was actually happening quite often), but definitely worried his fantasy was so vivid, that if the cook turned to look at him at that moment, he would be able to read exactly what Zoro was imagining and kill him right there on the spot. 

Sweat started to collect on the swordsman’s brow as the images in his head became more explicit and fantastically erotic. Zoro could do nothing but stand in front of the sink and watch Sanji’s hands as they moved expertly through the soapy water and over the smooth ceramic. The cook turned to the girls suddenly and chuckled in response to Nami’s teasing. Zoro shivered as Sanji’s laugh tickled up his spine and shifted uncomfortably as certain parts of his anatomy showed their appreciation for the cook’s silky baritone.

Placing the plate on the drying rack, Zoro quickly wiped his hands on the dish towel and moved away from the sink. Sanji turned to him with his eyes flashing a warning of a painful death and tried to trip him with his foot.

“Hey,” he growled, “where the hell do you think you’re going? We’re not done yet. These dishes aren’t gonna dry themselves.”

Zoro stopped backing away, his panic monetarily forgotten as he realized the ludicrousness of Sanji’s statement.

“Are you completely--?” he cut himself off and took a breath before he continued. “Yes they will.”

Sanji carefully set the plate back in the water and grabbed the dish towel. “Not the fucking point, Marimo. Everybody on the ship has duties—not including you lovely ladies.” The cook turned and flashed a smile at Nami and Robin. They smiled back and Robin winked shamelessly. 

“So don’t think for a freaking second that you-”

Zoro cut him off before he could go into a rant. “I’m not trying to get out of anything, I just need a minute. I’ll be right back.”

Chopper stood and waved his hooves frantically. “Zoro! You’re not feeling sick are you!?”

Zoro shook his head. “No, no, Chopper, I’m fine. You guys are making a bigger deal out of this than needs be. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll come back. I’ll even wash the dishes if it keeps your panties from bunching, cook.”

Sanji made a face. He seemed to be stuck somewhere between anger, annoyance, and curiosity, but Zoro figured he was making that last part up. The cook pulled out a fresh cigarette and slipped it between his teeth.

“Fine, whatever,” he mumbled. “Forget the fucking dishes. Go bang your head against a wall, or meditate or whatever it is you do.” With that he lit his smoke and turned back to the sink.

Zoro took the chance and turned towards the door. He pulled it open roughly, and stepped out onto the deck. He heard Robin’s cool voice as he was closing it behind him, and paused a moment to listen.

“You are very forgiving today, Cook-san.”

“Yeah, well,” Sanji replied. His voice was smooth and cordial once again, and Zoro hated how much that irritated him. “Guy’s probably itching like crazy. We haven’t had a battle in several weeks. And besides, I’m used to doing this by myself anyway.”

Zoro didn’t want to hear the girl’s reply, so he closed the door quietly and made his way to the crow’s nest. He figured he would lift some weights, or maybe do a couple thousand push-ups to clear his head.

* * *

Alone time for head-clearing was not to be however as Sanji had other plans. When the cook climbed the railing and slipped into the makeshift gym, Zoro almost groaned aloud. He ignored the cook as best he could and continued lifting. He forced himself to concentrate on the pleasant burn of his muscles, and the feel of the sweat that trickled down the back of his neck.

Sanji lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall. He said nothing for a long time, just watching Zoro work out. It started to make the swordsman’s skin crawl, but the cook finally spoke before it got too bad.

“I know why you’re acting like you got a stick up your ass,” Sanji said nonchalantly.

 _Doubt it._ Zoro thought. “Oh yeah?”

“It’s been like three weeks since we’ve hit land.” Sanji took a long drag on his smoke and pushed off the wall, starting to slowly pace the room. “You’re sexually frustrated.”

 _You really have no idea._ “Maybe _you_ are.”

Sanji snorted and slipped a toe underneath the bar of one of Zoro’s twelve-hundred pound weights. The cook flexed his heel, and the barbell lifted off the ground as if weighing nothing.

“Don’t think I can’t see it. And you’re right, I’m feeling it too, but that’s why it’s so obvious to me.” Sanji kicked gently, and juggled the bar from one foot to the other. “Don’t be such an ass when I’m coming here to try and help you out.”

Zoro almost dropped the weights. Help him out? What the hell was he saying? They were talking about sexual frustration for crying out loud! 

“Right,” Zoro grunted. “You’re going to help me with my sexual frustration. How exactly?” Zoro almost chuckled when he thought exactly how Sanji could help him out, but then quickly had to push another explicit image out of his head.

Sanji’s response was unexpected, but it really shouldn’t have been. The cook tossed the barbell into the air, pivoted on his opposite foot, and with a devastating side kick, sent the weight hurling in Zoro’s direction. The swordsman moved just in time, catching the bar with his own, and sent it zooming back to Sanji like a crazy game of baseball.

Zoro grinned. It figured the cook’s first remedy for frustration would be a fight, but damn, he was right. It felt good. They hadn’t had a real fight in more than a month, and now that they were getting into it, Zoro realized he had missed it. There was only so much weight lifting and meditation he could do. The real training was putting his skills to use, and Sanji was the only crew member on board besides Luffy he could trust to fight him seriously. Plus, Sanji could meet him with enough skill that the swordsman could go all out and not worry about killing him accidentally.

Sanji side-stepped, sucking nonchalantly on his cigarette as the bar sailed passed him. The weight crashed through the wall of the crow’s nest, sending splinters of wood in all directions. The cook ignored the mess and lifted another large weight with the toe of his shoe. Zoro set his bar on the ground and held up his hands, ready to catch the next thing Sanji sent his way.

The cook surprised him. The blond side-kicked the bar like the first, but then fluidly lowered himself to the ground and swept a leg around, catching another and sending it sailing across the floor. Zoro caught the first, and jumped just in time for the second to whoosh by and explode out the wall behind him.

Zoro chuckled. “Franky’s gonna be pissed.” 

“Let him be pissed,” Sanji replied.

Zoro turned to the side, taking a practice swing with the thousand pound barbell. “You’re going diving for my weights after this.”

“Only if you beat me.”

Zoro swung. Sanji ducked. A grunt, another crash, and then there were three holes in the crow’s nest wall. Zoro took a moment to survey the damage and grinned. 

“This is gonna come out of our allowance.”

“Fuck it.” Sanji snorted. “It’s worth it.”

He was absolutely right. Zoro licked his lips, set his weight against the wall and moved across the small space. He plucked his swords up from where they had been watching, and slipped Sandai Kitetsu and Shuusui into place under his haramaki. He turned to the cook and pulled Wadō from her saya slowly.

Sanji’s grin was maniacal, as Zoro closed the space between them. He flipped back, sliding out through the hole the first weight had made, and stood arrogantly on the edges of splintered wood.

“Hell yeah. Now we’re talking, Marimo.”

Zoro started as Sanji disappeared. He had dropped to the deck from the crow’s nest? That was a fall of, what? Seventy? Ninety feet? There was no way the cook could take that—superhuman, frog-legged bastard or not. 

The swordsman leaned out the hole and looked down expecting to see Sanji below and at least a little splattered, but he saw nothing. From the supply room door, Usopp and Chopper were looking up at him with googily eyes. Zoro made a face and growled. “What?”

“U-uh…” Usopp stammered. “What are you guys doing?”

Zoro rolled his eyes. “What does it look like? We’re training.”

The words had barely left Zoro’s mouth before a long, skinny leg swung up from below, catching the swordsman under his jaw. Zoro grunted. The pain from his teeth clashing together shot through his head and all the way down his spine. He felt himself falling, but reached out at the last moment and caught a rung of the ladder.

Sanji didn’t give him a chance to recover and kicked out beneath him immediately. Zoro blocked with the flat of his blade and held the cook in a deadlock of polished steel and loafers. 

Below, Chopper turned to Usopp and whimpered softly. “What should we do, Usopp?”

Usopp, his eyes still locked on their warring shipmates, shrugged hopelessly. “We can’t really do anything but pray they don’t kill each other, and help clean up afterwards.” 

Chopper squealed as Zoro finally hit the deck, Sanji right on his heels. The little reindeer held the brim of his hat in his small hooves as a flurry of flashing swords and long, black-clad legs blew past him. He should be used to Zoro and Sanji’s fights by now, but for some reason, the energy in the air was so intense Chopper couldn’t sit back and ignore it. There were going to be serious injuries this time, he knew it for sure.

Zoro had drawn Shuusui, and now he fought with two blades against the onslaught of Sanji’s devastating attacks. The swordsman felt revitalized. This was as satisfying—if not more so, but Zoro wasn’t ready to admit that even to himself yet—than several hours with a good woman. Five minutes of ‘training’ with the cook and Zoro felt better than he had in weeks. 

The swordsman pushed and Sanji went flying backwards. The cook hit the solid wood of the galley wall, and blood flew from between his lips. “ _Shit!_ ” he spat, and righted himself. Zoro was aware that his side was on fire, and his vision was a little blurred still from the kick to his jaw, but he met Sanji’s next attack head on. He planned to get the cook in another deadlock and use the skinny blond’s momentum against him. He could toss Sanji overboard easily since his back was against the railing. It would just take a twist of his hips and-

Bam. Before Zoro could finish the thought, his world was upside down and he swore he could smell burnt hair. He was too disoriented to immediately right himself before he felt fire – literally - burning at his ribcage and the impact of what he was sure qualified as a cheap shot. His plans to send the chef swimming were reversed as he crashed through wood and went sailing over the side of the Thousand Sunny. He was maybe a foot from the water when his body was violently yanked backwards, a strong, rubbery arm wrapped tightly around his leg.

All he could do at this point was take a deep breath and brace for the impact of being flung back into the Sunny.

More wood splintered and the crash wasn’t painful, really, but all the hollering from Franky and his captain was adding a certain element of bedlam to the situation he could have otherwise done without. He scrambled out of the debris his re-entry had caused and spun around wildly, trying to locate the flash of blond he was looking for.

Sanji was certainly not one to hide himself, but he may or may not have climbed up and crouched behind the kitchen chimney in order to launch over the side in a surprise attack. He jumped into a perfect flip, intending to catch Zoro in an upside down kick, but either Zoro had known he was there all along or he had impossible reflexes – though if Sanji had to guess, it was a mix of both – because all it took was for the swordsman to reach out and snatch his ankle and bringing him crashing down to the floor on his back. More blood and coughing, and the atmosphere immediately went from stress relief to a primal brawl as the two snarled at each other and struggled to get their footing back while inflicting as much damage on each other as possible.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!”

Franky grabbed Zoro by the shirt and yanked him off Sanji while Luffy stretched his arms several times around the struggling chef.

Having been pulled away, Zoro could now see where the burning had come from – Sanji’s leg. The pant leg had burned all the way up to the knee, and the place where the chef had kicked Zoro in the rib was completely devoid of material, scorch marks being the only evidence.

Nami, Chopper and Franky were all hollering simultaneously, but Sanji and Zoro could hear over their angry voices the sound of their captain laughing hysterically. They looked at each other and grinned.

* * *

“Never, not in a million years.”

“Why the fuck not?! Look at her rack, Marimo! She’s got the body of a Goddess! Why would you not hit that?”

“Look at her teeth, cook.”

Sanji was silent for a moment, watching the tall brunette buying oranges about thirty yards away. He finally nodded when he saw gaps and stains of yellow and brown, and turned back to his coffee.

“Yeah, okay, fine. I hadn’t noticed her teeth before.”

The two shipmates sat at a corner café waiting for Nami to return from her excursion. She had taken Robin by the hand in the middle of their shopping and told Sanji and Zoro to ‘Sit here and don’t move a muscle until we get back’. Sanji had felt a little abandoned, but if Nami was off having a good time with Robin… who was he to interrupt girl time? A flash of the lovely ladies trying on underwear together crossed his mind briefly, but he quickly pushed it out of his head to stay a hemorrhaging nosebleed.

Zoro had grumbled in the beginning, but when Sanji had bought him an ale, and told him to watch for beautiful women, the swordsman had taken that as a challenge and turned Sanji’s suggestion into something competitive.

“Got one,” Zoro said quietly.

Sanji swallowed, and set his cup down carefully. “Where?”

“Your three o’clock… blue dress… hair in braids.” Zoro smiled smugly and took a swig from his mug.

Sanji leaned back, grabbed his pack, and pulled out a cigarette. He tapped it nonchalantly on the back of his hand and reached for his lighter. He glanced quickly at his three o’clock and took in the beautiful blonde girl standing in front of the jewelry shop. His heart melted instantly.

“Oh… beautiful rose…” he murmured. “Where have you been all my life?”

He heard Zoro snicker from across the table and turned to glare at his shipmate, his buzz from seeing the beautiful girl gone.

“What?” he growled. “I like women. I _love_ women. I love them in all shapes and sizes, colors and whatever else.”

Zoro shook his head. “This is the easiest game I’ve ever played.” 

Sanji sat forward, lighting his cigarette. He glanced around the busy street, determination hardening his features. “Fine. Hold on. I’ll find one that’ll knock your socks off.”

“Doubt it,” Zoro grunted.

Sanji spotted and pointed out a small girl with dark skin and black hair. Her features were beautifully feminine and her eyes were a striking shade of green.

Zoro, however, just shrugged his shoulders.

“ _Gah!_ ” Sanji almost burst into tears. “I’ve pointed out six or seven girls most men would donate a limb just to talk to! Where the hell are your standards?”

Zoro shrugged again and hid his smirk behind his mug. “Her hair is too dark for her skin. She’d look better if it was blonde.”

Sanji threw up his hands and leaned back in his chair. “Blonde… There's more to women than blonde hair…” He took a drag and blew out slowly. “…Like red hair.”

Zoro grunted again. “You’re just saying that ‘cause Nami has red hair.”

“No.” Sanji twirled his coffee mug slowly in his fingers. “One of the reasons I love Nami is because she’s a redhead.”

“I thought you said you liked all shapes and sizes and bla bla bla.”

Sanji nodded, taking a sip. “I do. But I also have a type.”

Zoro quirked an eyebrow at him, and the glint in his eyes made butterflies take flight in Sanji’s gut. There was some kind of underlying conversation going on, but the cook had not been given a clue as to what it was. Things between him and Zoro had been different lately, for obvious reasons, but that still didn’t explain the swordsman’s _extra_ strange behavior the last week.

“Hm…” Sanji took another sip of his coffee. “I like red hair, and light skin. I like them small and thin- frail even. I like sweet more than sassy, and old fashioned.” He finished his lie with a drag on his smoke, hoping the swordsman couldn’t see through it. He had, after all, always been an excellent liar. 

Zoro frowned, confusion stretching across his face. “Frail? You like girls that are small and frail?”

Sanji nodded.

“Why?” Zoro asked.

Sanji crossed one leg over the other. He wasn’t sure why he was doing this, but he was getting exactly the reaction he had figured he would get.

“I want my girl to depend on me.”

Sanji could see Zoro’s demeanor was slowly giving way to annoyance. “You want someone weak… that you can’t train with?” 

Sanji laughed. “A wife is a wife, Marimo. She’s not a crewmate. I wouldn’t do things like train and fight with her.”

The swordsman scratched at his jaw in frustration and Sanji found it fascinating that this was bothering him so much. 

“Wouldn’t that be…” Zoro murmured, looked down at the cobblestones at their feet, “I don’t know… boring?”

Sanji took a long drag from his cigarette and then snuffed it out in the little ashtray on the table. “Well, what do you want from a woman?”

Zoro laced his fingers together behind his head. His eyes looked far away as he sat thinking. “Strong; a good fighter... I’d want her to hold her own so I could trust her to have my back… Someone that would stand by me as I work for my goal…” 

Sanji grinned and leaned forward. “You’re a goddamned romantic, Marimo.”

Zoro glared at him. “I am not.”

“Yes, you fucking are,” Sanji chuckled and finished off the rest of his coffee.

Zoro rolled his eyes and looked away again. “Blonde,” he said simply. “Blond and light eyes.”

Sanji sat forward again, resting his elbows on the tabletop. “I can’t believe it!” He exclaimed. “Roronoa Fucking Zoro has actually thought about the person he wants to marry! Better check the temperature, because Hell is about to freeze over!” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Zoro growled. “I haven’t really thought about it. This was just what came to my mind first when you asked.” He dropped his arms and grabbed his mug. “At least I’m not fucking boring and stupid. I thought you’d be a little more…”

Sanji waited. “What? A little more what?”

Zoro shook his head and finished off his ale. “It’s just not what I expected from you, cook.”

Sanji sat for a few minutes in complete silence. The fact that Zoro had just told him more about himself that he had probably told anyone else ever, thrilled him. He wanted to scream it from the rooftops like it was a victory he had over the entire world. Impenetrable Roronoa Zoro had just opened up to him and told him something intimate about himself without Sanji having to torture him with sharp things.

“Sanji! Zoro!” Someone called from down the street.

Both men turned towards the voice and saw Robin and Nami making their way back through the throng of shoppers. Each had two or three bags under their arms, no doubt filled with sweet-smelling girl things, and lacy garments that Sanji would never had the privilege of seeing. The cook’s heart broke a little at that, but he managed to stand and wave cheerfully.

“Phew!” Nami said as the girls reached them and dropped their bags at Sanji’s feet. “These are heavy. Would you mind carrying them for us, Sanji-kun?”

“Of course!” Sanji cried happily. “Anything for my precious Nami-swan and Robin-chwan!”

Nami smiled sweetly before turning around and heading towards the dry goods stands. Their shopping would now continue. Sanji grabbed a few of the bags and shoved them in Zoro’s direction.

The swordsman looked at Sanji incredulously, and shook his head. “Hell no. You carry them. I’m gonna have to carry all the crates of potatoes and fruits and other shit you’re gonna buy.”

Sanji made a face, but collected all the bags and started after the girls. 

Two hours later, when the four were heading back to the ship, Sanji glanced over at Zoro’s displeased look and sighed. He moved closer to the other man and said quietly under his breath.

“Hey, I was just kidding before you know. That superior look you had when we were checking out girls was annoying and I wanted to piss you off.”

Zoro gave him a sideways glance, but quickly his attention was back on the road. “Kidding about what?”

Sanji turned and watched Robin and Nami’s backs as they led the way. “About what kind of woman I’m looking for…” He lowered his voice. “I love Nami because she’s strong, and she’s brave as well as beautiful. Robin too. I could never be with someone that I’d have to protect every second.”

He watched as Zoro’s features softened, and the swordsman’s step actually became a little lighter.

“She doesn’t have to be a fighter,” Sanji continued, “but she should be able to kick at least a little ass… otherwise, it would just be… boring.”

Zoro snorted, and Sanji moved away. He had only seen it for maybe a half a second, but the cook was sure he saw the ghost of a smile on the swordsman’s face before he caught up to the girls. 

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written exclusively by SinisterBug.

Well, _this_ was certainly a new feeling for Zoro. Or maybe the feeling was just so old, he'd been too young to remember what it felt like to get caught red handed by the one person who could make your life hell for what you'd just been caught doing.

It was like all the blood had been sucked from his body, yet his heart somehow was still trying to beat itself out of his chest. It was worse than getting your chest sliced open, by far.

_Fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK._

There was Sanji, standing there, eyes burning like some deep blue sun, his hands clenched and a look on his face that told Zoro this was the end of everything they'd just gained in the last few months.

_The previous day..._

Zoro's pulse was slightly elevated as he snatched the final crate of vegetables from the deck. He'd spotted it, there was no mistaking it, and hell if he was going to pass this chance up. He concentrated on maintaining his unaffected composure and went into the kitchen to find Sanji.

"Oi," he said, placing the crate next to the others.

"What?"

"I'm not going this time."

Sanji raised an eyebrow at the swordsman, and paused in his yam skinning activities.

"What?"

Zoro only needed to level his gaze at the cook to make it clear he wasn't repeating himself. Sanji's lip curled into the beginning of a sneer.

"Why?"

The swordsman returned the look. "Do I need to run down my itinerary for you, or will you just buy that I'm fucking busy?"

Sanji resumed skinning the yams and returned his gaze to the cutting board. "Sounds like you've been reading Robin-swan's dictionary again. You gotta be careful flinging multiple syllable words around like that, Marimo."

Zoro smirked, inwardly relieved. That had gone much easier than he expected. Over the last two weeks they'd gotten used to sharing, so to speak, even when there was enough money for them to go separately. They'd only mentioned it once, and Sanji was refusing to think about it.  
The cook had only needed to mutter once that, this way, they could spend their extra money on other things.

It was a good enough reason for both of them, it seemed.

He'd expected to hear complaints that Sanji would have to pay more if he went by himself, but Zoro figured that if he was itching to get away from the chef this bad, Sanji was probably feeling the same way. He would get the ladies all to himself, and Zoro would get what he'd desperately been needing since starting this whole pattern.

"Your loss then. You still covering the midnight shift?"

_Shit._ "Dunno."

Sanji only 'hm'd' in response, and Zoro turned on his heel to go find someone to convince that taking his midnight shift was going to be more fun than going out and drinking with the rest of the crew. He didn't have to try very hard, because Chopper was happy to take his shift, if only to give Zoro a break after having done it continuously for months.

It was nearing sundown, so Zoro grabbed a quick shower. Before he left, he went into the men's bunk when no one was around, went to his locker and searched towards the back for a small pouch he kept buried in another little bag of various items. Extra sword polishing supplies, some old maps and notes, unsuspicious-looking items. He found the dingy little pouch and opened it, retrieving a small silver coin that could have been mistaken for just another beli. This wasn't just a regular beli, however.

It was a membership card.

He tucked it into his haramaki and left.

* * *

Zoro was looking for the building he'd spotted from a distance earlier, but it had proven a lot more difficult to find from a ground view. It was a tall building, he knew, or else he wouldn't have been able to see the sign from the Sunny.

A sun, split down the middle, painted in time-faded orange hues. It was the same as the mark on the coin he was now carrying. The streets were starting to clear out at this hour in the evening, so it wasn't even apparent given the people in the vicinity what district he might have been in.

Sometimes, if the community was either completely shameless, or unusually tolerant, there would be signs pointing the way. But Zoro couldn't see any, and he was starting to get weird looks just standing in the street, looking around. And it wasn't like he could just up and ask a vendor.

He turned a random corner and by sheer luck, there were two men walking together down the street. There weren't any other men walking around that closely together, so Zoro just hoped they were heading the same place he was hoping to get, and not to some back alley.

He was careful not to be noticed. In general, this was a very protective community, and if they thought he was out to hurt someone, he'd be screwed. But the couple seemed completely absorbed in each other and didn't realize they were being followed.

Much to Zoro's relief, they rounded another corner and the tall building with the sign he'd been looking for came into view. And just as Zoro expected, the security was heavy. Not that anyone would have been able to notice. Who would have thought to look up at the rooftop for the three or so men crouched up there with guns out of sight? And those windows weren't blacked out, they were just one sided so you couldn't see the goons on the inside waiting to pound you if you said the wrong thing or made the wrong move. He'd bet serious money that the people walking casually down this street were actually _patrolling_.

This place seemed pretty big, but at first, Zoro couldn't figure out why. The building was oddly shaped, and the back of the building was surrounded by high stone walls. Then he realized there were trees just peeking out over the top. It was likely to be a garden, or a bath house.

He found it noteworthy that the right kind of male brothel was infinitely more difficult to get into than a regular one. Sure, a woman's brothel had plenty of its own kind of blatant protection, but they could get away with that. _That_ was the "accepted" type of prostitution. Not only did a male brothel need more protection due to prejudice and violence, but the very people who stepped up to be the brothel's protection risked their lives twice over just for being affiliated. Sometimes the protection needed protection.

Just like every other male brothel, this place wouldn't have a name. The mark of the sun was enough.

Zoro waited to see how the couple got inside. They knocked on the door twice, and a small slot slid open. One of the men said something, while the other placed his coin in the slot to be inspected.

A coin was granted only by the owner of the establishment. Patrons were required to go through a physical examination, an oral interview, and whatever else the owner wanted to put the potential patron through to make sure that what they wanted was sex with a man, and not someone to abuse and mangle for whatever fucked up psychological reason.

Zoro hadn't had to do any of that to get his coin. He'd just happened upon a couple of younger boys that belonged to the local brothel being cornered by a psychopath in an alley one day. The swordsman hadn't known who he'd stepped in to protect at the time, but they'd made sure he was a coin carrying member before he went on his way.

Of course, just because you had a coin didn't mean that wherever else you went you didn't get hassled. Anyone could steal a coin and pretend to be friendly. So coin or not, pretty much everyone had to go through a screening of some sort. That was just for the medium to high quality places. But it was well known that if a brothel hadn't adopted the coin system, you were risking a lot more than lousy service by going. Needless to say, Zoro was never desperate enough to go to a place that didn't require a coin.

He took a good look around the area before stepping up to the door. He made sure to keep his hands as far away from his swords as possible. The last thing he needed was to be shot because he looked threatening.

He knocked a couple of times and a slot slid open. A deep voice said, "New here?"

"Yeah," he replied, and placed his coin inside the slot.

A few moments of silence passed before the door opened, and he stepped inside.

Zoro had the urge to give an impressed whistle, but he contained himself. Doubts that he would be able to afford the place began entering his mind. Not only were male prostitutes usually more expensive than women anyway (considering all the extra cost it took to support and protect a male brothel, it made sense), but he couldn't remember ever being in such a fancy brothel, ever. The floor was marble, there was expensive looking art on the walls, everything that could be gold probably was, and there was red velvet everywhere.

The lobby _appeared_ empty, but he highly doubted it was, and whoever had opened the door had booked it out of there. After a few minutes, Zoro began to wonder if he'd set off some alarm. He was wanted, but that hadn't been a problem before. In fact, sometimes it was an asset. But apparently he'd made someone nervous.

After a few more minutes of waiting, a very sharp looking young man dressed in a black suit came out and addressed him.

"Mr. Roronoa Zoro, I presume?"

Well, he had a wanted poster. It wasn't completely unusual to be recognized.

"Yes."

The man held out his coin. Zoro took it.

"This is a very special coin, Mr.-"

"Just Zoro."

The man nodded and smiled. "Zoro. Regarding your coin..."

Zoro raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"

"Well, on one side, it has The Mark, of course. On the other, it has the mark of the particular establishment from which it originated. That, in and of itself, isn't special. However, according to our records, this coin originated from East Blue. Shell Town, to be specific."

Zoro nodded. "Is there a problem?"

The man chuckled. "No, not at all. I must apologize for leaving you out here alone; I imagine it gave you the wrong impression. We were simply startled to come across this coin, and even more startled to see that you were the one carrying it." The attendant paused momentarily before continuing somewhat reverently, "Your service in Shell Town is very well known in this community."

Zoro had the decency to redden slightly.

"To be honest, it's always been somewhat of a wish of ours to have you walk through our doors. Your crew has become very famous and you are certainly a very desirable patron. May I ask, are you going to be in town long?"

"Few days."

The man smiled. "Well, I hope you will take full advantage of our services. Tonight is complimentary. I will call for the staff immediately, and please feel free to select whoever, and however many, you like."

Not that Sanji would likely be interested but, initial embarrassment overcome, Zoro contemplated gloating. Yeah, Sanji could probably walk into any regular brothel and accomplish the same thing if not better, but the male brothel community was different. Let him try to walk in here and get the red carpet treatment.

"Also, as you are well aware, I must ask you to check any weapons at the desk. As an additional show of appreciation, the owner would like to offer her personal vault for your particular use."

Zoro's hand hovered over his swords. _Damn_. It really _had_ been too long. He'd completely forgotten about that. Places he'd frequented before had allowed him to keep Wado on him, at least.

"What about peace binding?"

The man seemed to hesitate for a moment before saying, "We could perhaps allow it for one sword, but-"

"Perfect," Zoro cut him off, quickly untying the other two and relinquishing them.

"Very good, Sir. If you would just allow me…"

Zoro handed him Wado as well, and watched as the man carried them reverently behind what was probably the front desk. He pulled out a long black strip of what looked to be silk, and then rang a desk bell.

A moment passed before someone, whom Zoro assumed was probably the man who answered the door in the first place, appeared. He was… large. Very, very large. Zoro hadn't seen an actual _man_ that large since their encounter with Blackbeard.

He eyeballed Zoro and quickly set to work, wrapping the ribbon tightly over Wado's sheath. Without saying a word, he returned it to Zoro, who nodded, and then disappeared into whatever shadow he'd come out of.

"If you will please come this way into the parlor, I will return momentarily," the attendant bowed.

Zoro followed the man as he walked gracefully down the hallway and turned into a lavish parlor. Before the attendant left, he asked, "Would you like me to consider any preferences?”

Zoro didn't need to think about it. "Blond, around my age, maybe a little younger. Blue eyes if you can manage it."

He smiled and nodded. "Of course, Sir."

* * *

Sanji wasn't opting out of a solitary brothel excursion for any particular reason. He just didn't feel up to it. It certainly wasn't because _Zoro_ wasn't going. He could go and still enjoy himself any time. He'd been doing it up until now, anyway. But Nami and Robin had tempted him with a game of cards, and it was always going to be his lovely ladies above anyone else.

He didn't _need_ to go to a brothel, let alone go to a brothel with Zoro. It was just an arrangement, a pleasurable and fiscally frugal way to distract oneself with a crewmate.

The more he thought about it, though, the more he realized that the reason he was compliant with the arrangement was partially due to the fact that something unexpected had come from it. He had now what he could potentially call... well, maybe a _friendship_ was too much, but a _something_ with Zoro that resembled friendship. They bickered less, and though their differences remained, something about their interaction had grown into an ease that he was beginning to enjoy.

This afternoon, for example. Normally, he or Zoro would have said or done something that would have stunted the communication process with the other. Then they'd be compelled to fight, which would lead to breaking things, which would lead to dragging the rest of the crew into their ugly interaction. But such instances were happening less often. They were offending each other less, seemingly because they we beginning to understand each other better. Not through talking, really, but through watching each other interact with the women at the brothels. Neither of them treated any of their crewmates like the women at the brothels, so seeing each other in a new light had given them both a different perspective on the other.

So maybe, _maybe_ , Sanji did prefer Zoro's company when going to a brothel. Maybe. But even if that were the case in general, it wasn't the case now. He'd just rather spend time with Robin-chwan and Nami-swan than with a perfect stranger.

But Sanji, having decidedly gotten to 'know Zoro better', began to wonder what the swordsman could have possibly been busy with that he had turned down going to a brothel. Or maybe he was lying and just wanted to go by himself, and was at this very moment enjoying the ample bosom of some gorgeous woman and thinking Sanji was a sucker for falling for it.

He frowned at his cards. He'd still rather be here, sneaking peeks at Nami's and Robin's ample bosoms. But it was the principle of the matter, damn it. Doing something like that was as bad as stashing the booze for your own use, when everyone else is going without.

Then again, maybe Zoro wasn't at a brothel. But where the hell would he be? He'd gotten his blades sharped just a few months ago, and there hadn't been enough action between now and then to justify getting them done again. He usually worked out on the ship; he had all the supplies to clean his swords on the ship... Other than working out and sword related activities, what could Zoro possibly be doing? And why had he purposely avoided telling Sanji?

Idiot Marimo. He knew he should have given him more shit about it earlier.

Maybe he was just out drinking. Zoro drank alone all the time. But why go out to drink if you're aiming to drink alone? He could've just holed himself up in the crow's nest.

He took his anger out on the lemons he was squeezing to prepare the lemonade for his lovely angels.

* * *

It probably would have shocked Zoro to know that at that particularly moment, Sanji was thinking as intently about Zoro as Zoro was him, though in two very different ways.

There had been four men that fit Zoro's criteria, and they all walked casually, one by one, into the parlor and introduced themselves, leaving immediately after.

The attendant came back in after they'd left, and asked Zoro if he was interested in any of them.

Without hesitating, he confirmed, "Christian."

Zoro had almost had to look twice when Christian had walked in. Black slacks, blue button up shirt, affecting that stupidly casual but swanky look that Sanji always pulled off without any effort. Yes, Zoro noticed. Zoro noticed every God damn thing about Sanji, so he knew what to look for when he went to these places. Christian was the closest he'd gotten so far.

He experienced no small amount of guilt about doing it, but short of jacking off all day and all night, it was the only thing he _could_ do. And far from worrying about hurting a prostitute's feelings, he had to do something to rid himself of the type of tension only Sanji could cause him.

But just as easy as it was for Zoro to notice the similarities, the differences ended up being painfully obvious as well. Where Sanji was lean and hard and mostly long muscles, Christian was probably comparable to Nami in muscle mass, but that was to be expected. He'd never quite found anyone with that lean, muscled physique he wanted to get his hands on so much. Usually male brothel workers purposely limited their physical activity because 'softer' was in demand.

Zoro knew Sanji probably had his soft places, and he wanted those just as much as anything else about the chef. But he'd seen that lean, cut chest; caught glimpses of those powerful thighs; admired the strong lines of his back.

The eyes were almost the exact same shade of blue... but they lacked Sanji's fiery attitude and spirit.

He was led up a staircase and to yet another room and informed that Christian would be there momentarily. In the meantime, he toed off his boots and removed his haramaki. Wrapping the green cloth around Wado, Zoro propped the sword against the wall and inspected the room.

There were wine and cigars laid out in an elegant offering, but Zoro ignored these. Instead he inspected the large garden doors that led out to a balcony. The windows were blacked out like downstairs, but the swordsman had to wonder about the safety of it. Then he noticed that behind the blue silk curtains were wrought iron bars, and the glass was unusually thick. Still, why have a balcony if it wasn't practical or safe to use it?

He shrugged and peered out the window, gazing out at the city as the sun finished setting.  
The door opened behind him, and he felt his stomach tense - a sure sign that it had been far too long.

"Good evening, Zoro. Thank you for choosing me this evening. Are the accommodations to your taste?"

Zoro nodded, taking in the changed appearance. Christian was already barefoot, and had changed from the blue shirt to a fitted, long sleeve black shirt. His hair was overall a few inches shorter that Sanji's, but his bangs were the same length, and swept over his eyes the same way.

Christian smiled, gesturing to the wine, "Would you like anything?"

"Only your assurance that no one's going to come busting through that balcony window."

Christian's mask of decorum slipped momentarily and he grinned, as if to say, 'would you stop fucking me if they did?'

But he quickly resumed his formality and said gracefully, "Well, I won't say it _hasn't_ happened before, but we've certainly upgraded our security since then. Besides," the blond swept his bangs from his eyes, "I doubt you'd have any trouble taking care of it. I've heard quite a lot about you, and not just from Shell Island."

Zoro smirked, accepting the compliment.

Christian moved towards Zoro like an eel moved through water. "I have one question to ask you, as a mere formality. I'm sure you'll understand. Am I playing the role of someone else tonight, or should I just count myself lucky that you like blue-eyed blonds?"

He stopped just a foot or so from Zoro's personal space. _Very smart_ , the swordsman thought. Christian was playing it respectful and safe, but at the same time the look in his eyes was causing Zoro's spine to tingle.

"Just you." That wasn't necessarily true, and it wasn't necessarily false. Zoro didn't understand it himself, but he'd never been interested in playing _that_ out literally. It was like crossing an invisible line. The similarity was enough. He couldn't even bear the thought of calling Sanji's name when he was with a prostitute, or anyone that wasn't Sanji, for that matter.

Christian seemed pleased, but he immediately masked his reaction and took one last tentative step forward.

"I can do that."

* * *

Christian's lithe body was stretched taut, his hands gripped tightly on Zoro's forearms for support as the swordsman held his hips firmly from behind. With his head thrown back over the green haired man's shoulder, his hips rose slowly until Zoro guided him back down his length hard. His skin slapped against the swordsman's as he panted for breath, moaning beautifully.

Zoro guided him forward slightly, moving Christian's hands to grip the headboard instead of his arms so he could lean back and appreciate the view of the blond man's ass. There wasn't anything in the world like this position, no matter which gender your bed partner. Zoro appreciated nothing better than a gorgeous rear and watching his cock move in and out at varying speeds. It was fucking mesmerizing.

Christian was incredibly vocal and responsive, but that was pretty much a default for prostitutes, unless they could pick up on the patron wanting something else. He hoped, more than assumed, it was his skills eliciting the response, but he also learned long ago not to think about it.

He altered his position again, getting up on his knees and leaning over Christian, enjoying how pretty his partner's back was bowing out beneath him. All the while the blond moved his hips against Zoro in a motion that he could only describe as an insistent plea for more.

Letting his hips do the work, Zoro let his hands roam Christian's pale skin, trailing fingers over the expanse of his stomach, and brushing lightly over pert nipples. The blond let out an almost inaudible hiss, but it was the sudden erratic movement in his hips that gave him away. Zoro grinned, placing kisses down his ear and neck, and lightly rubbing the pads of his thumbs over the small buds.

"Nnmh," Christian whimpered, the pitch of his voice changing.

Zoro hissed himself when he felt the blond clench around his cock. He began firmly caressing the buds, hoping to win more noises out of the other man. He snapped his hips forward, thrusting harder and faster.

"Zoro…" he panted. "So good. Ah, yes-"

One hand still abusing a nipple, he trailed the other up Christian's creamy throat and cupped his chin possessively, gently encouraging his head back to reveal his neck.

Kissing hotly along the new skin offered to him, Zoro suddenly switched his pace, moving down from slightly frantic, to achingly slow.

Christian's response was a whimper and his voice broke almost comically as Zoro lifted himself to thrust in at a different angle. The swordsman could feel the blond's thighs trembling, while his entire body simultaneously contracted and melted as Zoro aimed for that spot again, but with a maddeningly slow pace.

"Ah, ah, Zoro-"

The green haired man grazed his teeth along the length of Christian's neck, and he contemplated prolonging it, but a teasing stroke of Christian's length told Zoro he was already leaking pre-cum, and was probably still trying to figure out if he needed Zoro's permission to come or not.

He felt guilty for not mentioning it outright, instead leaving Christian to try and politely determine on his own.

He pulled the younger man up gently from the u-shape he'd bent him into and eased him to rest his weight in Zoro's lap. He coaxed Christian to reach behind him and wrap his arms around Zoro's neck.

"Keep your hands there." It was said in the politest voice Zoro could muster in that state, and Christian just nodded, his eyes smoldering with lust.

The swordsman smoothed his hands over the blond's thighs and gently spread them further apart until he was completely straddling Zoro backwards. Christian made a noise that sounded like a whine and Zoro didn't wait any longer to resume his grip on the other man's thighs. But he didn't slam into the man like he otherwise might have done when he wasn't already feeling bad for depriving him.

Instead he took advantage of the sweat build up between them, and slid Christian's ass up and down, rocking in and out of the man while never breaking contact. The blond gasped and jerked, and Zoro slid one arm to wrap around his stomach, pressing his partner tightly to him. He took the other hand and slicked it with precum, then quickly stroked Christian's length.

It didn't take long, after being at it for the better part of an hour, and he felt the other man's body completely tense. Zoro groaned as the pleasure coiled hot in his belly and loins. Christian bowed his head forward and panted desperately, his eyes squeezed shut as he let out a broken shout.

Zoro bit his lip to fight off his completion as Christian tightened around him almost painfully, his muscles jerking involuntarily as he came. The swordsman slowed his thrusts but did not stop them, and he continued to stroke Christian thoroughly as he rode his orgasm, and after. The blond whimpered and quickly brought his hands down to push Zoro's away, but Zoro pushed him forward again and continued stroking him.

Christian cried out as his body continued to twitch and jerk in response to the attention to his over-sensitized length. But the green haired man did not relent until he'd gone completely soft.

With a final gasp, Christian collapsed onto the bed, still connected intimately with Zoro as he hugged the pillow and unconsciously curled his body in on itself.

Zoro bent over to kiss him on the shoulder, then gently pulled himself out. He got up and removed his condom, disposing of it in a small trash can by the bed.

"You…" Christian started. He shook his head and tried again. "I… I can't believe you fucked me speechless."

Zoro chuckled and crawled back into the bed, sliding comfortably up to the blond.

"You… absolutely… completely blew my world to hell just now. I don't think I can feel my dick. My God damn ears are ringing."

Zoro grinned and began running his hands soothingly along the length of Christian's body.

"Mm, yeah. That is the cherry on top," the blond said, closing his eyes and smiling. After a moment of basking in Zoro's attention, Christian said somewhat seriously, "You pulled out. Thank you."

Zoro snorted.

Christian sat up on his elbows, a smile creeping onto his face. "I mean it. And I'd like to show you just how grateful I am."

Another hour later and they both laid there, panting and sweating. Zoro would have been content just to fall asleep right there, but just as Christian curled into his arms to tuck in as well, his stomach let out a roar of protest at not having been fed since lunch.

Christian laughed and sat up, the way his body moved reflecting the post-orgasmic haze they were both floating in.

" _Well,_ " Christian said, running his hand up Zoro's belly, "trying to tell me something, are you?"

Zoro just snorted and rubbed at his face, trying to push away the drowsiness. He did not know how to explain it, but he never felt tired after having sex with women the way he did with men. He just didn't. It wasn't necessarily that one was physically better than the other, but having sex with men just... took it out of him more than with a woman. That was another reason why he never stayed the night at a women's brothel. He usually had too much energy afterwards to even contemplate it.

"How does a hot bath and sake sound, while you wait for dinner to be prepared?"

"Sounds good," Zoro said, before clearing his throat. He _sounded_ like he'd just had a really good fuck and, appropriate though it was, good for his demon pirate hunter reputation it was _not_.

Christian beamed at him and crawled out of bed, retrieving a cotton robe from a previously unnoticed closet.

"I assumed silk probably wasn't your thing," the blond said, grinning.

Smirking, Zoro pushed himself reluctantly out of the bed and nodded. "What gave me away? The worn out clothes, the five o'clock shadow, or the gaping scar across my chest?"

"All of the above," he said, allowing Zoro to slip the robe on himself. Christian turned and grabbed another robe from the closet for himself and then ushered Zoro out the door.

He had to give Christian credit, he was very good at reading his patrons. He didn't offer to go into the bath with Zoro, giving him the reprieve the swordsman was needing. Frankly, Sanji was really much better at chatting up prostitutes than he was. All he wanted now was to soak and drink.

He quickly washed himself in the bathing area and stepped out into the outdoor area where the baths were.

It was a small set up, but an elegant one. The bath was apparently a natural spring, so it was carved out of real stone. The surrounding foliage was real and, best of all, it didn't appear that he was going to have to share. He took a deep breath and let it out as he stepped into the almost intolerably hot water.

The tension, stirred up and running wild through his body after Christian, began to leak out of him, sucked away by the heat of the water, the sounds of the bath, and the promise of sake to come.

* * *

"I'll give you half my day's earnings."

Christian frowned, his attractive smiled turned into a boyish pout. "Why? You're not going to let him do you, anyway. And, I'm sorry, but I just spent like, three hours with the man. He's not going to let _you_ do _him_."

"So? If that's the case then I'm basically giving you half my day's earnings for nothing. Just let me try."

Christian huffed. "Fine. But _don't_ piss him off. Madam will kill you, or worse. And so will I, for that matter. He's the best lay I've had all fucking year."

* * *

Zoro was just beginning to wonder when the sake was coming, when he heard the soft sound of footsteps padding in his direction.

"Aah, this is perfect," a decidedly _lower_ voice than Christian's said.

Zoro lifted his head and opened his eyes.

"I assume this one is for you?"

A long, tattooed, well muscled, _naked_ body descended into the bath, and it took just a split second too long for Zoro to realize this man was offering him a floating tray with sake and a cup on it.

He stood to accept it, continuing to eyeball the man, who was carrying his own tray. So much for being alone.

"Christian seemed to have his hands full, so I thought I would bring this out for you. Sake isn't sake without another man to share it with, anyway."

Zoro couldn't discern from that statement whether this person was a patron or a prostitute. And although he was disposed to be angry about losing his privacy, he wasn't in a position to tell the man to leave, especially if he was a patron.

There was the matter of his body, though. But the swordsman wasn't sure in which direction that clue led him. Although, upon another brief inspection as the man slipped easily into the water, Zoro was sure he didn't see any scars. He was well built, but probably only for aesthetics, not fighting. The tattoos probably served the same purpose. At this point he was inclined to assume this person was a prostitute.

He settled himself across from Zoro, which gave the swordsman an opportunity to inspect his countenance. Whoever he was, he didn't look like any brothel worker the green haired man had ever seen. The first word that popped into Zoro's head was 'rake'. This is probably what Sanji would look like if all his talk about womanizing was real. Shoulder length hair pulled back in a careless tail, traces of a heavy stubble, eyes full of mirth and pheromones that seeped out in gallons.

"You're obviously not much of a talker, so I'll get straight to it. I just gave up half my day's earnings to Chris, just so he'd let me come out here and talk to you."

Definitely a prostitute, then. Ballsy though he was being, Zoro wasn't quite impressed yet.

"That's a lot to give up to talk to someone who's 'not much of a talker'." Zoro stated, pouring sake for himself and ignoring the usual decorum.

The other man grinned. "I'll rephrase. I just gave up half my day's earnings just to get the chance to _fuck_ you."

Zoro threw back the sake and closed his eyes as the familiar burn made its way down his throat. It wasn't completely out of the question as far as looks went, certainly.

He polished off four more cups before he set the sake down and answered.

"Got a name?"

"Roman."

* * *

Zoro hadn't outwardly shown any particular interest when Roman sat down to dinner with him, but acquiesced when he suggested that they switch from sake to Madam Pepper's Explosive Fire Tequila. He allowed the other man to engage him in light conversation, but anything that passed between them verbally was insignificant.

What mattered was the look. Roman's eyes said 'confidence' and 'hard sex' and 'you might have to give me a convincing argument to wait until we're upstairs'. The swordsman only had to wonder if it would be worth his time.

Finally, satisfied with the amount of tequila he'd imbibed, Zoro said, "You've got balls of steel, trying to get _me_ into your bed."

Roman lifted his eyebrows in surprise, and quickly followed the expression with a laugh. "So you _do_ own your reputation, then? And here I thought you were just being shy."

"Consider that your first and only warning," Zoro said, a small smirk appearing on the corner of his lips. His expression clearly informed Roman that the swordsman would certainly make him regret it if all his bravado was false.

* * *

Roman's bravado hadn't been false, but it had become immediately apparent that he had an almost _entirely_ wrong idea about what it was like to fuck Roronoa Zoro.

He groaned, just barely feeling the puffs of Zoro's breath on his neck and chest. He hissed when Zoro's grip on his hair became tighter, but he dared not complain anymore than that. He'd given up on trying to take control, because it just wasn't happening. Zoro's free hand was pressed against Roman's chest as a warning of what would happen if he did.

The swordsman's back muscles strained, and Roman would have given anything to have been on top, just to watch the way that bronze skin moved. He could only barely see the way the swordsman's hips were lifting up and down in a fluid movement – his hair being pulled so tight that he couldn't life his head much - but the peripheral view was enough to make his imagination go wild. But Zoro had him pinned tight and, even worse, he was well aware of how much Roman wanted to just flip him over and fuck him hard. He smirked haughtily in the face of the prostitute's desire and continued to do whatever suited him instead.

"You're- ah- not gonna let me- unnnh... fuck, Zoro-"

Despite having his hands yanked back down several times for straying without Zoro's permission, Roman couldn't take it anymore. He pushed roughly against the swordsman's chest and growled in protest. He used one arm to prop himself up and the other grabbed Zoro's hip tightly.

The swordsman snarled, but it quickly turned into a surprised choke. Roman dug his heels into the mattress and thrust into Zoro hard.

The reaction was automatic - Roman could feel the shiver that started down Zoro's back and ended at his hips.

The swordsman's instinct was to express in a very physical way just how out of line Roman was, but all he could do was close his eyes and let his head fall forward as he tried to keep his concentration. But the tattooed man didn't give him a chance to recover, and he thrust again, and again, and again, ignoring the fact that if he did something Zoro didn't like, he was likely to end up on the floor with more than just his pride broken for being so brazen.

Zoro had to grip Roman's shoulders to keep his balance as the other man increased his pace. This was it. Roman's grip on his thigh was definitely going to leave a nasty bruise, but it was honestly the last thing on his mind. Pleasure was shooting up his spinal cord and winding through his body and back down to his cock. His strength was beginning to falter.

Roman pulled Zoro forward just slightly, adjusting their position to be able to penetrate the green haired man more fully. He _wanted_ Zoro to stop resisting and just let himself be pulled close, but he could tell the swordsman was still holding back.

With Zoro using Roman's shoulders for balance, Roman could free one of his hands to take advantage of all the skin he'd been wanting to run his hands over. He started at Zoro's back, running his hands along those strong cords of muscle, and was surprised to see the swordsman react to the touch. A small hiss and bending his back to the touch was all Roman got for his effort, but it was incredibly gratifying, for whatever reason, and it turned him on all the more.

He moved on to Zoro's neck, finally getting the chance to touch that green hair. It was short and soft and nothing spectacular, but Zoro closed his eyes and sighed as Roman ran his hands through it. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could handle.

Zoro was well aware that he was now suddenly _allowing_ Roman to touch him, but he was on the verge of telling himself to fuck it and just go with it. He would probably never see this guy again, and he'd really, _really_ been needing this. It was time to see what Roman could do with a little more slack on the leash.

The change was obvious. For the first time that night, they made real eye contact, and Zoro's grip on Roman's shoulders melted as he slid his hands around his neck.

Roman looked like a hungry dog that had just been thrown a steak - eager, but determined. He wanted to surge forward and claim Zoro's mouth, but instead he settled for nipping eagerly at his lips as the movement of his hips naturally brought him closer to the swordsman's mouth. Zoro rewarded him with a real kiss.

Their movements slowed for a moment as they were both drawn into the intimate act. Bodies were now flush, Roman eagerly ran his hands over every inch of skin without reserve. Truthfully, Zoro's abdomen was a thing of wonder to him. He was extremely musclar, but compact and smooth (with one obvious exception). Men of his power usually had bulging, unattractive physiques, but Zoro was just... compact, was really the best description for it. And that horrific gash was mesmerizing. He'd wanted to touch it - hell, he hadn't been able to really take his eyes off it. He wanted to kiss and lick every inch of it, but he settled instead for running his hands over the knotted skin and enjoying how Zoro turned his head away to hide the fact that his breathing had become more labored.

Roman dared a kiss on the swordsman's pectoral, running his hand up Zoro's chest and neck, dragging fingers through his hair and cupping the back of his head. He wanted Zoro on his back and he wanted it _now._

Zoro could see it, too. But Roman was about to learn that he would take exactly what Zoro gave him, and he would damn well like it. He shoved Roman onto his back and placed on hand flat on his chest to hold him there.

"Don't make me regret this."

Instead of restricting his hands like before, Zoro simply rested his hands on Roman's stomach as he began to ride him, fast and hard.

Never, ever in his wildest, nastiest dreams and/or imagination had Roman been expecting this. He threw his head back and groaned loudly, but he reeled himself back in quickly. He'd come before Zoro at this rate, and the swordsman's warning was ringing loudly in his head. It had been a long time since he'd had to try so hard with a patron.

With his hands free, he quickly spat into the palm of his hand and did not hesitate to grip Zoro's impressive erection. That tell-tale action Zoro did of closing his eyes and dropping his head forward let Roman know that he was doing all the right things. He could hear Zoro's breath hitching just under the sound of their skin slapping together.

Roman loved the feel of the sweat building up between them - it gave Zoro's skin an interesting sheen. More than anything, he wanted to see what his own stomach would look like with the swordsman's come splashed all over it.

The muscles in Zoro's thighs spasmed every time he brought himself down on Roman's cock, and his own hard length pulsed in the prostitute's skilled grip. Every other muscle in his body was wound tight, ready to snap or release, and the fire in his belly grew with every movement shared between them.

Roman was about to lose his mind - he couldn't take it anymore. Zoro was too hot, too tight and moving too fast and hard. His stomach clenched, but before he could come himself, Zoro was right there with him. His movements went from fluid to jerky, and he cried out harshly once as his hot come splashed over Roman's stomach and chest.

Roman arched off the bed as he felt Zoro clench spasmodically around his cock. He came hard, crashing back down to the bed and then sitting up quickly, clenching Zoro's arms and bringing them chest to chest as the last of the waves crashed over both of them.

Hands were still moving, soothing over each others skin slowly. They kissed whatever skin their lips could reach. Zoro's hips still moved slightly as Roman pulled him into a long kiss. They came down together, Zoro collapsing on top of Roman.

They breathed in each others panting breaths for several moments before they separated, and it was several more before either of them was in shape to speak.

"Oh gods, half a day's earnings was more than worth it..." Roman breathed.

Zoro snorted and rolled onto his back. "You did alright."

Roman sat up. "Alright? I did _alright?_ Is there some sex Olympics out there that I don't know about that makes me just alright in comparison to sex Olympians?"

Zoro chuckled and threw an arm over his head. "Would you prefer me to tell you in graphic detail how incredibly sexually gratified I am, or can I just tell you that you did alright and be done with it?"

Roman mulled this momentarily. "I see your point. You weren't so bad yourself, then."

They didn't have sex again, but Zoro did stay the night. Roman procured another couple of bottles of the fire tequila, and with the help of a deck of cards and the added company of Christian, Zoro thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the night.

The next morning, Zoro's swords were returned to him in pristine condition, and the first attendant encouraged him to return if he had the time. Christian and Roman both saw him off.

He left the establishment feeling refreshed. The sun warmed his skin as he stepped outside and he took a deep breath, and looked around…

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written exclusively by Starkblack.
> 
> Also, due to complaints, I need to post a disclaimer: The character Saul is not trans-gendered. I am aware that he is extremely feminine, but he still identifies as male. I apologize for any confusion.

Sanji slammed the spoon down on the countertop and resisted pulling out his hair at the last second. His fingers were covered in puréed tomato after all.

The itch was too much. The thinking and the pondering, and the ‘what if’s were starting to make Sanji’s head hurt. He couldn’t enjoy a game of cards, couldn’t concentrate on dinner—couldn’t even sneak peeks at Robin’s cleavage or Nami’s legs without thinking of the fucking green haired bastard!

Why was it such a problem? Why did it even matter? Who fucking knew? But what Sanji did know, was that Zoro leaving the ship for something he obviously did not want to discuss, or even _mention_ to his… _almost_ friend, pissed the cook off so much he wanted to take a shower just to relieve the urge to scratch at his skin. He was going to get _hives_ for fuck’s sake, _and it was all that goddamn Marimo’s fault!!_

Abandoning the sauce by pouring it into a bowl and shoving it into the ice box, Sanji threw together a thirteen foot sandwich. He piled on the meats and cheese to keep his captain happy, and filled a platter with lettuce, sliced tomato, pickles, and other assorted toppings. He set out mayo, mustard, relish, salsa, chocolate sauce, marshmallows, and anything else he could think of that his neurotic crewmembers might want. He opened a few bags of potato sticks and filled his largest bowl to the brim. He made macaroni salad, and finally, mixed together a giant jug of iced tea.

He left the galley, and headed to the boy’s cabin. He tossed around a few shirts and several pairs of slacks before finding something suitable. There was an art to picking out clothes that were classy, yet sturdy enough to go traipsing around potentially dirty parts of a city. There was also the added complication of finding something clean, and well, he hadn’t done his laundry in a few days…

He didn’t need a shower. He smelled damn good—like lemons and mustard and iced tea mix. Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to smell like anything but cigarettes after he smoked as much as he was craving to at the moment anyway. 

“There’s food on the table,” he said with a flourish of his hand as he passed Usopp and Nami. “I trust the lovely Nami-swan can keep our captain from eating it all.”

Nami looked at Sanji with wide eyes, slightly off balance when the cook was not trying to wait on her hand and foot. “Uh, okay. Where are you going?”

Sanji gave her a little bow and stepped off the deck and onto the unloading platform.

“I forgot some things while shopping today, my precious flower,” he explained. “I’m going to look for them. Don’t wait up for me.”

Nami rolled her eyes. “Not like I ever do. You coming back tonight?”

 _Not if I find the Marimo. I’m gonna kick his ass into tomorrow afternoon._ “I think not, my sweet. I shall see you in the morning.”

Nami nodded and the cook started down the platform with a wave over his shoulder. “Tell Chopper there’s a snack for his watch tonight in the fridge!”

If Nami heard him, she didn’t respond.

* * *

It only took Sanji two hours and seven bars to realize he was being ridiculous. He was wasting his free night on land _looking for Zoro_. What was he, a fucking _girl?_ Who cared where Zoro was! He had every right to go off by himself and do… whatever it was that he was doing!

 _Son of a bitch! What IS he doing?!!_ Sanji slammed the mug down on the bar top. His cheeks burned. He knew he’d had more than enough, but as the night wore on, he slipped farther and farther into a funk. The alcohol relaxed him, but it didn’t stop the thoughts that plagued his mind. 

He was lonely. That’s all there was to it. Zoro had unwillingly and unknowingly become his friend in the last few months. It was a fucked-up kind of friendship, but the fucking swordsman filled a big empty space. He closed a gap that had been opened when Sanji had left the Baratie. They were, what, a year apart? A couple months? How old was Zoro anyway? It didn’t matter. Luffy was too young and too weird to be his friend. Franky was creepy sometimes. Usopp was… Usopp. Chopper was… a reindeer…

Zoro was the same as him. They were more compatible. They fought well together— _really well_ together. 

“You okay there, friend?” the bartender smiled kindly at Sanji.

The cook frowned, staring through a haze of drunkenness at the man. “You’re buds with a guy if you both like the same stuff, right?”

The bartender chuckled. “Uh, I guess.”

Sanji waved a hand and pushed his glass forward. “I mean, if you both do the same stuff, and hang out a lot together—I’ll have another, by the way.”

The bartender refilled Sanji’s glass and leaned on the counter. “If you hang out a lot together and enjoy all the same stuff, yeah, you’re buds.”

Sanji nodded, taking a swig of whatever he had ordered. “Good. So… lessay, you and this other guy—hees ‘n asshole, just so you know, thiss’s why I’m confused—You and this other guy, fight all the time. _All the time!_ But you kind if enjoy it. Iss fun, it gets you energized; keeps you from going crazy on long stretches at sea.”

The bartender nodded.

Sanji lowered his voice. “And you both looooove girls. You both love girls so much, that you head out every night you’re on land together to pick up chicks… Together. You’ve totally seen thissguy naked like ten times, but it dussn’t matter, ‘cause you’re buds, right?

The bartender looked like he was trying not to laugh. Sanji couldn’t think why what he was saying was funny, so he just pressed on.

“The reason I sort of jumped down ‘is throat at the beginning, was ‘cause I thought he was trying to get with the girls on our ship, and everybody knows _I_ love the girls on the ship. But then, after a while, I thought he was sorta um, un-sexual ‘cause all he did was eat, sleep, and clean hiss words.” The cook took another swallow. “But I guess ’is just _really_ good at hiding it, ‘cause _damn_ , he’s fucking crazy enthusiastic with the hookers. But anyway…”

“So, what’s the problem now?” the bartender asked. “You said you still fight all the time, or something?”

Sanji nodded. “It’s ‘cause we’re both so strong.”

The bartender nodded like he understood. He was a great guy, listening like he was. Sanji smiled up at him and slapped the bar top. “One more! For the road!”

As he swallowed, Sanji thought about the situation. Maybe the reason things were so complicated, was because Zoro and him never actually communicated anything to each other except a few four letter words at a time. 

“Maybe I should tell him that we’re friends, ‘cause I don’t think he gets it. He’s kind of slow. Well, ‘cept when we’re fighting. He’s reeeaaally fast when we’re fighting. He looks so cool when he’s doing it. Fighting, I mean, not _doing it_ doing it. I’d never tell him that though, cause then his asshole-ness would skyrocket.”

Sanji rubbed his eyes. “Did you know he fights with a sword in his mouth? Isn’t that _awesome?_ I didn’t know you could fight with a sword in your mouth…”

“Really…” the bartender said softly.

Sanji nodded and hiccupped. “It makes sense though. ‘S the only way he could fight with three. Of course, he could just fight with two, but I guess that wouldn’t be enough of a challenge for him. Stupid bastard.”

As Sanji sipped at his drink, something tugged at the back of his mind. The noise level of the room had lowered considerably, and when the cook glanced to the side, he realized that there were several patrons eyeing him.

The blond turned back to the bartender, and smiled a little crookedly. “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

The man nodded slowly. “I suggest you move quickly. You’ve caught the attention of some of our more unsavory pirate hunters.”

 _Curse my Goddamn mouth._ Sanji tipped the glass back and downed the rest of the fiery alcohol. _And curse Zoro for getting me into this whole freaking mess!_

The cook stood, and straightened his jacket. He turned to face the room, eyeing several men moving to stand in his way of the door.

“I s’ppose,” Sanji slurred, “You’re all here to get your asses beat. I can help you with that, if you like.” He hiccupped. “Free o’ charge.”

The first man snarled at him. He pulled a knife from his boot slowly, and advanced. Sanji watched him come, slipping his hands in his pockets. Even inebriated, the attack seemed a little slow to the cook.

Side-stepping, Sanji brought his knee up into the charging man’s diaphragm. There was a wheeze, a choking exhale, and a heavy thud as the man fell to the floor. Sanji pulled out a cigarette and lit the tip as four others advanced. Taking a drag, the cook dispatched three with clean sweeps of his feet, knocking the men into various tables and sending one crashing into the opposite wall.

The last of his attackers stared at Sanji with wide eyes. The cook puffed on his smoke, swaying slightly, and waited for the man to attack.

“Well?” he asked.

The man shook his head, dropping the bottle in his hand to the floor. “I ain’t fighting a friend of Roronoa’s.” With that, he turned and hurried out the door.

“Thass right!” Sanji called after him. “We _are_ friends! You should go tell him that ‘cause he’s an idiot!”

Sanji swayed again and pulled a few beli out of his pocket. He laid them on the bar and saluted the bartender. “Theressa few extra for your conversation, and the, huh… mess. I tried not to break too much, but I’m a little whoosy.”

The bartender nodded to him, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “You have a good one.”

Sanji waved and headed out the front.

He had made it all of about thirty feet before someone called out to him from behind. “Sanji! Blackleg Sanji! Wait up!”

Sanji turned, and smiled when he saw a young woman running to catch up. His vision danced a little as she approached, but he still could make out long, brown hair, and big, innocent brown eyes.

 _Wow… Chopper eyes…_ Sanji thought to himself. 

“Sanji!” the girl panted when she reached him. “That was amazing! I’ve never seen anyone move like that!”

Sanji smiled and slumped to lean against the brick wall that conveniently stood behind him. “Thank you, love, but it w’ssnothing.”

Straightening, the girl stood almost as tall as Sanji. As the cook let his eyes wander, he noticed that her form was thin, devoid of curves, but still lithe and graceful. He smiled, still a little wobbly.

“Y’r so tall…” he murmured.

She giggled. “And you are so drunk. Let me take you somewhere?”

 _Oh, that’s what this is…_ Sanji put up his hands, not wishing to hurt the girl’s feelings. “Thank you, lovely, but I’m really not-”

“Oh, just real quick,” the girl insisted, pulling Sanji into the alley.

The cook had a moment to think about how strong this girl was. How _extremely_ strong this girl was, before he felt his pants being undone, and his fly unzipped.

“Ya know,” Sanji murmured softly, rubbing at his eyes. “I don’t have a lot of beli for this.” He hoped the lie wasn’t too obvious.

“It’s okay,” she said as she dropped to her knees. “I’ll do it for free since you’re a Strawhat.”

Sanji grinned stupidly and leaned his head back against the wall. “Hey, thassokay. If you feel you must, I won’t argue with a delicate flower such as yurself.”

The girl slipped her hands into his pants and wrapped her fingers around his half hard cock. The cook’s back bowed a little at the girl’s grip. She stroked him expertly, with the perfect amount of pressure, and just the right amount of pull. If Sanji thought about it, this was the best hand job he had ever received.

“Shit…” he breathed. “Wass your name?”

“Just call me Kitty,” she murmured, looking up at him with those ridiculously innocent eyes.

Sanji snickered, but his breath caught when the girl’s lips covered him. His hands flew to the wall and he scrambled for purchase. The hooker’s mouth was so talented, Sanji feared his legs would buckle.

“Woa… holy… Shit, you should compete…” Sanji gasped. “Where the fuck did you learn to do that?” He looked down, watching Kitty’s mouth slide over him, her hands pumping him furiously.

Her hands… 

Sanji blinked slowly, sobriety coming in sharp and painful as he watched the girl’s hands. They were rough and calloused. Thick knuckles… fleshy pads… Those were most definitely not the hands of a girl.

A queasy wave rolled in Sanji’s gut, and he put his hands firmly on Kitty’s shoulders. He pushed the prostitute off him and pulled her gently towards a standing position. She looked up into Sanji’s face, saw the realization there, and slowly straightened. 

Sanji clenched his jaw trying to slow his breathing. He blinked a few times to clear his vision. Tucking himself back into his pants and zipping the fly, he looked at Kitty and shook his head.

“I don’t swing like that.”

Kitty, no doubt humiliated, wiped at _his_ mouth, and his eyes filled. Sanji had to look away. He raised his hand to straighten his tie and the smaller man shrank back like he was expecting a strike. The cook felt a pang at the hooker’s reaction and pulled his cigarettes from his pocket.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said softly. “It’s okay.” He offered the pack and Kitty took a stick. He lit the tip for him and turned his back to the breeze to light his own.

When he glanced back, Kitty still looked frightened, so Sanji pulled him back farther into the ally. As the brunette leaned against the wall, tears started to trail down his cheeks. Sanji watched the slight figure, as an ache he couldn’t describe pulled at his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Kitty said softly. “You’re so handsome, and the way you beat those men even though you were drunk… It was so incredible and I was so turned on… I haven’t felt that way about anyone in a long time.” He sucked on the cigarette, and Sanji just watched, the ache building.

“I guess I thought… since you were in the district…”

Sanji’s hand froze on its way to his mouth. The cigarette sat smoldering between his fingers. 

“District?” he asked quietly.

Kitty nodded. “You’re in the gay district of town. I… I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”

Sanji finally brought the cigarette to his lips. “Oh…” he said simply.

Kitty took a drag and studied Sanji carefully. He wiped at his eyes delicately, mindful of the heavy eyeliner. “You’re very nice. I’ve misjudged before and gotten the shit beat out of me.”

Sanji looked at the ground. He felt sick. “It’s not for me to judge. You can do whatever you want, just as long as it’s not with me. And just now was a mistake, so it’s all right.” It was mostly true. He didn’t like the fact that another man had touched him, but there was no way he could hit someone that looked so much like a woman, (on top of having Chopper eyes). Besides, the man looked like he hadn’t had a decent meal in days. The cook sighed and rubbed at his eyes again. His buzz was almost completely gone, and all he was left with was a dull pounding in his temples. 

Kitty continued to study him. “So… you’re not like, phobic or anything?”

Sanji shook his head.

“So you wouldn’t be mad if you found out one of your friends was gay?”

Sanji chuckled. “No, I wouldn’t. But that’s irrelevant, because none of my friends are.”

As Kitty stared at him, Sanji inhaled and blew the smoke out in a long, thin stream. Something coiled in his gut and he frowned at the prostitute.

“What?” he asked. “It’s true.”

Kitty moved closer and dropped the cigarette, crushing it under the heel of his shoe.

“You should come with me, Blackleg Sanji. There’s something you might want to know.”

* * *

Sanji leaned against the metal lamp post as he sucked on a third cigarette. The street was a blaze of color. Lighted signs blinked over bars; clubs and restaurants were packed with noisy patrons; music floated out from several establishments, all mixing together to form a cacophony of unrelated sound.

The building Kitty had pointed out to him was nondescript; three story, with a high wall behind. Sanji guessed there was some kind of hot springs or gardens back there. He stood watching patrons come and go, showing what Kitty had explained was a membership card at the door.

“So…” he exhaled. “That’s a male brothel, and you need a _membership card_ to get in.”

Kitty nodded from his side.

Sanji turned to look at the prostitute. He stood with his hands clasped over his waist. He looked very small and helpless at that moment, despite his height. He really did pull off the girl image very well.

“So, in other words, Zoro couldn’t have gone in there on like, a whim or something. He probably has done this a lot then? Frequented other places like this in other towns?”

Kitty nodded. “I guess. He saved a couple guys who worked at this place on another island. They gave him one as a gift.”

Sanji nodded. That sounded like Zoro. The cook turned back to the building and shoved his hands in his pockets. “And you work there too?”

Kitty nodded, and shuffled his feet. “Not as a companion though. I do housework…maintenance.”

Sanji nodded. “You go by Kitty there too?”

Kitty shook his head. “It’s not a tranny kind of place. I don’t… I’m a guy in there. I go by Saul.”

Sanji looked at him out the corner of his eye. “That your real name?”

Kitty shook his head.

Sanji turned his body, wishing his gaze wouldn’t keep gravitating back to the brothel doors. It’s not like he was standing here waiting for Zoro to come out or anything. 

“So, what is your name?”

Kitty looked at the ground, his cheeks turning pink. He wrung his hands and Sanji felt himself actually charmed by the man’s mannerisms.

_Don’t even… It’s only because he reminds you of Chopper… Damn those ridiculous brown eyes!_

“Um… I’m J-Jacob,” the hooker murmured softly.

Sanji figured he should end this now before this kid fell in love with him or something. He fished his small pouch of beli from his pocket, intending to shake out a few coins, but then thought better of it, and handed the pouch over to Jacob.

The prostitute looked at him then, his jaw dropping. He shook his head furiously and backed up a few steps.

“I can’t. I didn’t do anything!”

Sanji sighed. “You showed me where my friend was. Take it and go eat something.”

Jacob eyed the pouch and hesitantly moved to take it from Sanji’s hand. He held it close, clutching it against his chest. The cook watched tears build in the smaller man’s eyes and felt his stomach do a flip flop.

“Now, get out of here.”

Jacob nodded and turned around, moving quickly down the street. 

Sanji once again turned to look at the three story building. Zoro never stayed the night at brothels, so he shouldn’t be much longer. The cook decided to just wait for him. When he came out, Sanji would show the mother fucker the bottom of his shoe.

* * *

Squinting against the morning sun, Christian closed the door behind the handsome swordsman, and leaned against the heavy wood. Holy fuck he was sore. Good sore, but completely and totally tender, fucked-within-an-inch-of-his-life, kind of sore. All cock after Zoro was going to fail miserably in comparison.

The blond grinned at Roman, and the two moved to climb the stairs. Christian held the railing to steady himself as he ascended, much to the amusement of his friend. Jase and Quill passed them on the way up and whistled. Jase actually slapped Chris’ ass, sending a spike of pain shooting through the blond’s spine, but he only turned and blew them a kiss.

“You gonna tell us about it?” Quill asked.

“No,” Chris rolled his eyes. “I was planning on keeping the best fuck of my life all to myself.”

As Jase and Quill laughed behind him, Chris and Roman reached the top of the stairs. They were about to part ways, but stopped when they saw a small crowd gathered by the front windows. Wondering what was happening outside, they changed direction and headed toward the commotion.

“What the hell’s going on?” Chris asked Wolf.

Wolf turned crystal blue eyes, and a head of dark hair streaked with silver in Chris’ direction. “Your last patron is outside getting his ass chewed.”

“What!?” Chris moved to push in between skinny Shadow, and tall, tattooed Wren. “You’re fucking lying!”

Wren chuckled softly and leaned against the window frame. His long, red hair fell over his shoulders and tickled Chris’ cheek.

“I wouldn’t say ‘chewed out’. There ain’t a whole lot of talkin’ going on down there.”

Chris pressed his forehead against the glass and peered down below to the street in front of the brothel. He saw Zoro, his arms crossed over his chest, and his face set in a scowl. He looked so different than he had only minutes ago when he had said goodbye.

“Wow,” the blond murmured, “He’s really upset.”

Shadow snorted at his side. “I’d be upset too.”

“Yeah,” Wren seemed to be holding back a laugh. “That blond looks ready to breathe fire.”

“You didn’t tell us you had a brother, Chrissy!” Wolf snickered.

“I don’t,” Chris murmured, his gaze rolling over the figure glaring all kinds of daggers at Zoro. “At least, I don’t _think_ I do…” 

The blond in the nice suit resembled Chris enough that it felt a little surreal. He had the same hair, and the same eyes. His basic facial structure was similar as well, but it was obvious that this guy worked out a hell of a lot more than Christian ever wanted to. The prostitute could tell that Zoro’s acquaintance was in no way as frail as his slight frame denoted. There was a surplus amount of power hidden underneath that well-fitted wool, especially in his legs…

“Well, well…” Roman’s raspy baritone crooned in Christian’s ear. “Looks like Roronoa Zoro got caught.”

Chris snickered and shook his hips.

“Don’t you have an early appointment, Roman?” Wren said merrily. “The son of the magistrate, or something like that?”

Roman snorted and straightened. “And miss this chance to watch the famous Zoro get castigated by the boyfriend? Not a chance.”

“Castigated?” Shadow snickered. “That’s a new one.”

“That English professor that shows up once in a while,” Roman shrugged over Christian’s shoulders. “He’s very… vocal.”

“And _castigated_ came up?” Shadow made a face. “Are you sure that means what you think it means?”

Christian, more interested in what was happening below, pressed more fully against the window. 

“What makes you say this guy’s Zoro’s boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” Wren cocked an eyebrow. “I would think a boyfriend would’a freaked out a little more. This guy’s just turning him to stone with his glare.”

“God, he is so hot…” Wolf pressed forward, practically drooling on Christian’s arm.

“Who’s hot?” Small, silver-haired Yukie slipped between Christian and Wren to see what was causing the clog in the hallway.

Roman yawned and Christian didn’t have to look to know the larger man was stretching his arms over his head, pulling the muscles in his chest and torso. “Well, maybe not a boyfriend…”

“Oh my God!” Yukie exclaimed. “I saw this guy last night!”

All eyes turned to the boy as he leaned against the glass. 

“Really? Where?” Shadow asked, his black hair falling into his eyes. It was strange to see the usually calm and reserved man so excited. 

“I saw him with Saul!” Yukie bounced. “They were talking down the street by the big crossway sign late last night!”

“Saul? The handyman, Saul?” Chris demand.

Yukie nodded. “He works the streets around the brothel at night. You wouldn’t recognize him though, he dresses like a girl.”

“Saul’s a tranny?” Wren asked, surprise lifting his thin eyebrows.

“Wolf, go find Saul!” Christian turned around. “I want to know about the blondie.”

“But I wanna waaaaatch!” Wolf whined.

“Go!” Christian growled. He turned to the others as Wolf stomped off. “And you guys go… do something. I’ll let you know what I find out after I talk to Saul. Shoo! Shoo!”

The others left reluctantly, stealing a few quick glances out the window before trudging down the hall. “You better spill the second you know what’s up.” Wren winked at Chris before he descended the stairs. The blond sighed and leaned against the window sill.

Only Roman remained. His dark hair had the tousled, just rolled out of bed look, but his eyes were sparkling. He studied Christian with his amused gaze and reached one tattooed hand out to brush blond bangs from the smaller man’s forehead.

“What are you planning?” he asked softly.

Christian shrugged, smiling mischievously at his best friend. “Oh, nothing.”

* * *

Sanji ground his teeth. It was bad enough that Zoro had made him wait all night outside on a street crawling with okama but, just to add icing to this fucking cake, he had run out of cigarettes about four hours ago. The cook had almost slipped away to go buy a pack, but he knew the instant he left his post, Zoro would come rambling out.

Of course, the whole thing was stupid. He could have just gone back to the ship and confronted the swordsman there, but Sanji really wanted to see the look on Zoro’s face when he realized he had been caught.

As of this moment, the green-haired idiot was looking at him with slivered eyes, and a kind of scowl in the line of his lips. It wasn’t that much different than the looks the swordsman always gave him when Sanji pointed out the Marimo’s horrid sense of direction.

Sanji sighed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up in his imagination (it was all he had at the moment). “So…” This is where he would have exhaled slowly, building the anticipation. “Pussy just wouldn’t cut it last night, huh?”

Zoro’s form went rigid. His eyes widened and his nostrils flared. Those strong arms, usually so steady and sure, slipped from their perch across his chest, and his hands fumbled for a spot at his hips. You would have had to know Zoro to really see the slip, but it was there, and Sanji felt tremendous triumph at flustering the unshakeable swordsman so thoroughly.

“What…” Zoro paused, taking a short breath. “What are you doing here, cook? How did you find me?”

Sanji slipped his hands into his pockets. “You’re kind of high profile, Marimo. I just asked where you’d gone.”

Zoro blinked. “Why were you asking where I was?”

Instead of answering, Sanji took a step forward. He didn’t feel like getting in a fight right there in the middle of the street, but he definitely felt like getting into a fight—a fucking _cosmic battle_. Strangely though, he was still kind of calm. The anger was there, oh yes, the rage boiled below the surface, but it was sort of… tied up. It had been like this since last night with Kitty. He wanted to scream and break things, slam large objects into larger objects, but he couldn’t seem to tap into all that fire and brimstone he knew was down there… somewhere. It sucked because more than anything, he _itched_ to smash Zoro into a wall. He wanted to pound the asshole’s face into the pavement with his heel. He wasn’t even sure he knew why, he just knew he wanted to.

Laughter rang out behind the cook, and Sanji glanced around at the passersby. Maybe the natural stunt in his fury was a good thing. There was stuff he wanted to say, and he didn’t really want rubberneckers.

“Come with me.” With that, Sanji turned and started down the street, confident that Zoro would follow.

* * *

Yup, he was right. Sanji was pissed. That weird quiet had been all fake.

As another log snatched from the sandy beach flew past his head, Zoro wondered if there was a way to knock the cook out and give him enough brain damage for a little memory loss but no other permanent damage. Probably not, but maybe it was worth it to try?

Unfortunately, the swordsman found he really didn’t feel like fighting the cook. He didn’t even feel like defending himself. The only reason the various things Sanji kicked in his direction didn’t connect, was that his reflexes sort of worked on their own, despite Zoro’s feelings toward the situation.

Any kind of friendship he had managed to gain with Sanji was no doubt toast at this point, and it really surprised Zoro how much that realization hurt. Stupid cook had really gotten under his damn skin. 

He was so deep in self wallowing, that it took Zoro a moment to realize that Sanji had finally started cussing him out. He steadied himself, preparing for the montage of shit coming his way. It wasn’t that he was ashamed (Zoro was never ashamed of anything he did) but he had hoped that if Sanji ever found out about his more… exotic tastes, it would have been under different circumstances.

“…stupid, fucking, Marimo.” Sanji growled as he uncovered another log washed up from the ocean. He twisted, hooking the large piece of wood with his toes, and sent it sailing though the air. Zoro ducked as the log zoomed by.

“You know, Zoro!” Sanji hissed. “You’re a fucking idiot!”

 _Yeah, I know._ “Oi, cook,” Zoro grumbled. “If there’s something you wanna say to me, just say it.”

Sanji clenched his fists and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Do you have ANY idea what I went through last night!? I felt all weird cause you ran off by yourself all mysterious like, so I tried to find you, and got drunk, and ended up getting attacked in a bar just because I _mentioned_ your name!” The cook’s hands moved to his temples, rubbing jerky circles into his skull. “I have the most _fantastic_ headache now, and you know what? It’s not even from the alcohol! I was in the gay district, and didn’t know it! _The gay district, asshole!_ There was this girl that turned out to not be a girl, and next thing I know, I have A GUY WITH HIS MOUTH ON MY DICK! I got attacked, almost robbed, molested by a dude, and _it’s all your fucking fault! AND NOW I’M OUT OF FUCKING CIGARETTES ON TOP OF EVERYTHING ELSE!!!"_

Zoro didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or scream. He folded his arms over his chest again, and side stepped out of the way of a few flying bottles.

Sanji kicked at the sand, pacing in circles, growling and spitting in between expletives that went over Zoro’s head. The swordsman sighed in frustration, wishing the cook would just get to the point already.

But then Sanji did something that Zoro never considered. The blond took a breath and ceased his ranting. He wiped a hand over his face and moved slowly up the beach to sit on a large rock. He brought his knees up and rested his chin in his hand. He didn’t look at Zoro, didn’t say anything. He just sat, watching the waves as they rolled over the shore.

Zoro felt a little queasy. This was not how he had imagined things going. In fact, this was not even close. Was it possible that Sanji hated him so much, was so disgusted by him now that he didn’t even feel like fighting him anymore? That would pretty much be the worst fucking thing that could ever happen to Zoro besides losing to Mihawk _again_ , or Luffy deciding he didn’t want to be pirate king any more. Nausea rolled in the swordsman’s gut as he tried to sort out what to do. 

Fortunately, Sanji spoke before the swordsman could say anything stupid.

“You’re such an asshole…”

Zoro ground his teeth. He had been expecting Sanji to be a dick about it, but now that it was actually happening, it hurt and pissed him off a lot more than he had expected. “You know what? Fuck you, cook! I don’t have to _justify_ anything I do to you! I don’t have to _explain_ anything I do to you! This is the reason I had to be secretive, because I _knew_ that you were gonna be a fucking prick about it if you found out, and I didn’t want the _fucking hassle!_ ”

Sanji stood then with such speed, and came at him with such ferocity, that Zoro actually had to take a step back. The cook’s rage swirled around him like the winds blowing in from the ocean. Zoro could actually feel the white hot anger radiating from Sanji’s body.

“ _Is that what you fucking think!_ ” Sanji screamed. “Is that really what you think of me, you stupid Marimo son of a bitch! You think I care where you put your dick!? You think I would make fun of you, or tell on you to the rest of the crew!? _Do you seriously think that little of me!!?_

Zoro held up his hands. A few minutes ago, he would have said yes. Well… maybe not. Maybe he knew deep down that Sanji wasn’t really like that. Maybe he had just been a little… what was the word… scared?

“I…” Zoro said softly. “No… not really.”

“Then what the fuck!” Sanji bent and swung his leg at Zoro’s side. The swordsman blocked with his forearm, sending pain rocketing up through his shoulder. “You should know friends don’t do that kind of shit to each other! _Nakama_ don’t do that kind of shit to each other!”

The words, rather than the kick, knocked Zoro on his ass. He sat in the warm sand, the sun beating down on the back of his neck. He was too shocked to say anything; too confused to do anything.

Sanji was okay with it? Sanji was okay with him being into guys? How was that even possible? Had he fallen asleep and woken up in a parallel universe? 

And friends… Sanji had said they were friends… When had they become friends? They had always been comrades, but _friends?_

“Holy fuck, I need a cigarette,” Sanji breathed, landing with a soft _thud_ next to Zoro on the sand.

Zoro still couldn’t move. His limbs felt like wet noodles. For so long he had carefully kept this secret; always in the back of his mind there was that anxiety that someone in the crew would find out. And then bam! Here comes Sanji, loud and obnoxious, and sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong like he always did… But wonder of wonders, the idiot-cook was okay with it. 

“So…” Zoro tried to speak. “It’s not weird?”

“Oh, it’s weird.” Sanji lay back, unbuttoning his jacket. “It’s _fucking_ weird… But whatever. Our captain is made out of rubber. Our doctor is a reindeer. There’s a cyborg on board that struts around in a thong, and if that wasn’t enough, we have an eight foot skeleton for a musician. There’s weirder stuff to deal with than your sexuality on a regular basis.” 

Zoro nodded, still feeling a little off balance, but he knew it would pass. They sat under the sun for a while, quiet, each lost in his own thoughts. Finally, Zoro stood slowly and straightened his haramaki. He glanced down at Sanji and suppressed something that felt a little like gratitude.

“Let’s get back to the ship, cook,” he growled. “I’m hungry.”

* * *

Life was returned to normal when Sanji and Zoro climbed aboard the ship. Luffy made a big deal about breakfast being late, so Sanji headed for the galley without delay. They ate, Zoro trained, Sanji sang a farewell to the girls and Chopper as they left for an exciting day of shopping. The rest of the crew lazed around, enjoying the sun, or went about their business of playing music, building things, or blowing them up.

Lunchtime came and went. The late afternoon found Sanji finishing up the rest of the dishes and placing a large roast, complete with potatoes and vegetables, into the oven. He washed up, wiped his hands on a dish rag, and stepped out onto the deck for a smoke.

The cook watched the sun dance across the tops of the mountains, thinking that from this distance, the town was exceptionally beautiful. He inhaled, savoring the taste and feel of the nicotine entering his system.

Unfortunately, his moment of piece was broken by a call from Usopp.

“Sanji!” The sniper panted as he neared the cook. “There’s someone here. He wants to talk to you.”

Sanji cocked an eyebrow. “Who is he?”

Usopp shrugged. “Just some guy. He’s waiting on the dock over there.” The younger man pointed in the direction of the loading ramp and stepped aside for Sanji to pass.

“You tell Luffy?” Sanji asked as he headed in the direction Usopp indicated.

Usopp nodded. “I mentioned it to him, but he said if this guy was here to see you, then it wasn’t his problem.”

Sanji rolled his eyes and started down toward the dock. 

The sight that awaited him was a little surreal, and the cook slowed his step for a moment to take it in. The man that waited for him on the docks below was about his height, with the same blond hair and very similar blue eyes. His skinny form fit into a dark wool suit, and he stood lazily with his hands in his pockets.

The cook slipped his cigarette between his teeth, and dropped to the heavy wooden planks in front of his strange visitor. He took a few moments to study the man, marveling at the similarities in their looks, but keeping a mask of indifference on his face.

Finally, he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and exhaled slowly.

“Nice suit.”

The man smiled, and Sanji was stunned. This guy was almost _pretty_. “Hello, Sanji,” he said in a sultry tenor. “I was wondering if I might have a word with you.”

Sanji cocked an eyebrow. “Well, seems to me you’ve already had several.” He took another drag on his cigarette. “Who the hell are you?”

The man tilted his head in a playful way. “Just a friend of Zoro’s. My name is Christian.”

Sanji frowned. “A friend of Zoro’s? Where the hell-”

Suddenly it hit Sanji, and the cook almost dropped his cigarette. There was only one way this guy knew Zoro, and that was if this guy was from the brothel.

“Oh…” Sanji tried desperately to regain his composure. “You’re uh… you’re from the uh…”

“I’m a companion, yes,” Christian chuckled. “I entertained Zoro last night. He made… quite an impression.”

Sanji swallowed. “Well, he’s here right now, just probably napping. If you want to see-”

“No, no,” Christian held up his hands. “I came here to see you.”

Sanji blinked. “Huh? Why?”

Christian’s smile changed and his tongue slipped out to run over his bottom lip. He took a step forward and gently took the cigarette from Sanji’s fingers. He brought it to his lips and inhaled slowly. He returned it to the cook and opened his mouth to blow out three smoke rings. Sanji watched, his heart beating against his ribcage, not sure what to think, or even do.

“I came here to invite you to have dinner with me tonight.”

Sanji swallowed. “I… that’s really nice of you, but I’m not-”

“I’m not offering sex,” Christian murmured. “I’m asking if you would come have dinner with me and a few of my friends. We’ve heard so much about your travels with the Strawhat pirates, and we’d love to meet you… get to know you, like we did with Zoro.” 

Sanji clenched his jaw. On the one hand, his brain was screaming _no!_ but the curious side of him, the adventurous side of him, said he should accept. He would probably never get another chance like this to learn things about Zoro’s world.

“I… okay, I guess.” Sanji took a breath. “I don’t have a lot of money though. So-”

Christian flipped a coin to Sanji, and the cook caught it. He glanced down, thinking at first that it was an ordinary beli, but when he studied it harder, he realized it was something entirely different.

“That’s not our usual membership card,” Christian explained. “That is my personal coin. It’s good for one time only. I would like it returned, even if you change your mind and decide not to come tonight.” 

“Uh…” Sanji couldn’t seem make words at first. “Thank you…”

Christian did a little bow, turned on his heel, and started back down the docks toward the city. “I’m looking forward to tonight!” 

Sanji suddenly thought of something, and called out to the blond man.

“Wait, am I supposed to come alone?! Or do I bring Zoro?!”

Christian waved over his shoulder. “Whatever you want!”

Sanji watched him go, still confused. He looked down at the coin burning a hole in his palm. He dropped his spent cigarette on the ground, crushing it out with his foot, and climbed back up onto the ship. He stood for a moment, not sure what he should do, but then slowly started towards the crow’s nest where he knew Zoro was sleeping off the wine from lunch.

As he climbed, he told himself he wasn’t excited, and pretended he didn’t feel the butterflies dancing in his stomach.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Zoro had never experienced anxiety in the form of his stomach turning in on itself and then burning up in what felt like _acid_ , but he made sure to take note of the experience. It was that feeling where something so bad had just happened so unexpectedly, that his skeleton seemed to jerk under his skin and it left an unpleasant after-tingle.

Sanji was doing that dog-like circling/pacing thing in front of him, and he hadn’t said a word since he’d climbed into the crow’s nest and interrupted Zoro’s nap. With nothing on his mind except that Sanji must’ve had a change of heart and he really _did_ loathe Zoro’s existence, he admitted somewhere in the back of his mind that it was probably the worst way to wake up. Ever.

Suddenly the cook stopped and faced Zoro with an accusatory look. “I was just invited by a _male prostitute_ to have dinner with him and his _male prostitute_ friends at your _male prostitute_ brothel.”

Zoro blinked. “ _What_?”

“Don’t suppose you know a guy that looks _just fucking like me_ back at that place?”

That same streak of anxiety ran through the swordsman again, and he summoned every ounce of self control not to react suspiciously to that statement.

“Christian.”

“Not _likely_ ,” Sanji muttered somewhat sourly. 

The agitated blond put his hands on his hips and began pacing again.

“Why the hell would this guy ask me to dinner? And I made really fucking sure that’s all he wanted, because the last thing I need is another misunderstanding that involves some guy’s mouth on my dick.” He added, “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“So what the hell?” His gaze fell on Zoro, demanding an explanation.

Zoro shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Sanji’s eyes narrowed, as if he wasn’t quite sure he was going to accept that answer.

“Do they ever… kidnap straight men and try to turn them?”

Zoro stared deadpan at Sanji for a moment before lying back down and turning over. “Was it really necessarily to wake me up for this?”

“You’re coming with me.”

Zoro grunted in response.

Sanji grunted and hesitated only a moment before abruptly turning on his heels and leaving. There was no use in trying to rouse an irritated swordsman from his desired slumber. It was like trying to keep Sanji from staring at Nami’s cleavage. Why deprive a simple creature of his simple pleasures _now_ , when you can wake him up with a bucket of cold water _later_?

* * *

Maybe Zoro had heard Sanji’s thoughts, but he was up and showering well before Sanji felt the need to contemplate waking him in unpleasant ways.

He made a point to observe Sanji throughout the early hours of the evening, watching him with feigned disinterest as he cooked dinner, griped at Usopp for having the nerve to complain about the fact that Zoro and Sanji never spent time with the rest of the crew when they hit land, and animatedly discussed agricultural habits on islands in West Blue with Robin. Then, after dinner had been served and enjoyed (Zoro and Sanji stayed, but ate lightly, if only because Sanji did not want to burden/trust something as complicated as dinner with Luffy to anyone else on the crew), Zoro paid much closer attention to Sanji as he seemed to hesitate in the kitchen after dinner before hurriedly going to shower – almost as if he wasn’t sure he should or not. Or maybe that was Zoro using his brain a lot more in one evening than he cared to in a good week. But then the chef hesitated much longer in the boy’s bunk picking clothes, too. Or, at least, Zoro assumed that’s what he was doing, since he refused to go as far as following him in there just to see what he did.

And anyway, Zoro only noticed his clothes because they were so dramatically different from what he normally wore. The swordsman was irritated (but not surprised, to make it worse) to think that he’d stored knowledge of Sanji’s wardrobe in his brain at all, but the chef really had achieved a different look this evening.

His hair was a bit… undone, was perhaps the word. He looked like he’d just run his fingers through it. And, again, Zoro only noticed because Sanji was usually so _prim_ , but he hadn’t shaved, either. For the first time in what seemed like maybe _ever_ , the cook was sporting a god damn five o’clock shadow. He wore a black button-up shirt that was unbuttoned down to his sternum, and his shirt collar was askew, with no tie to be seen. Sleeves rolled up, black slacks, black shoes. 

There was no obnoxious polka dotted tie to soften the image, no goofy grin on his stupid face. His expression seemed lost, like he wasn’t sure from which angle to approach this situation. It was beyond Zoro’s observational abilities to guess what was going through Sanji’s mind at that point, however, so he decided to leave it at that and head to the brothel. If he got there first, he could maybe try and figure out what the hell Christian thought he was doing by inviting Sanji to dinner.

Zoro was exactly right. Sanji had no god damn idea what he was doing.

The cook figured the gruffer he looked, the less likely he was to be fucked with, if such a thing were to occur. Then again, these were gay men he was dealing with here. Perhaps looking manlier was only going to get him more admirers. But if that wasn’t the case, and he dressed with his usual flair, someone might mistake him for being one of them, and… 

He looked at himself in the mirror for a moment before he slowly sank into a squat. He rested his elbows on his knees and put his chin in his hands. What was he doing? Was he really going to do this? He could just give Christian’s coin to Zoro and have the swordsman take it back to the brothel for him. He didn’t have to go at all… 

But then there was the inevitable taunting session that would ensue. He would never, _ever_ hear the end of it if he backed out now. He could handle it. He was going to go, and he was going to make like he wasn’t in the slightest bit scared. 

Not that he actually was scared. No, no, no…

Sanji stood again, taking a deep breath, and smoothed out the front of his shirt. He pulled a cigarette from his breast pocket and placed it, unlit, between his teeth. He could do this, _he could do this_. 

Maybe a white shirt would look more heterosexual?

* * *

As the swordsman walked the streets, he chuckled slightly at the memory of the brief conversation he’d had earlier with Sanji before dinner.

“You leave first, and meet me a few blocks away from the brothel.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow at him. “You want to meet up first?”

Sanji looked at him, confused. “They already know you, why wouldn’t we go together?”

The swordsman snorted. “Maybe because we could be recognized? Going together? _To a male brothel_?”

Sanji’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared. He let that sink in for a moment and then said, “Well, I suppose this is why I keep you around.”

“Protecting Sanji’s heterosexual image, twenty-four hours, seven days a-“

Zoro ‘oofed’ and doubled over as Sanji walked away like he _hadn’t_ just dug his knee in to Zoro’s solar plexus.

His attention returned to the present as he approached the brothel. He fished out his coin and walked up the few steps to the door. The street was fairly busy, but no one seemed to be paying him any mind, other than the guards stationed around the perimeter. 

He knocked and the wooden slot slid open. He placed his coin inside and with much more efficiency this time, he was admitted and greeted by the host.

They exchanged brief greetings and Zoro once again acquiesced all but the most precious of his swords. It was peace-bound as before. Zoro half expected to be lead somewhere afterwards, but he was asked to wait in the lobby until his comrade arrived. 

There went his chance to talk to Christian beforehand.

Sanji was only ten minutes or so behind Zoro, and the swordsman grinned to himself when he noticed that Sanji had changed his black shirt for a white one. He looked a little more like himself now.

The chef was greeted by the host (Zoro really needed to learn his name), and they were both escorted straight to the back of the building, and out the back door. Sanji kept his hands in his pockets and his eyes forward. He was tense, almost like he was ready for battle.

Zoro snorted and shook his head.

For one crazy moment, Zoro thought they were heading for the baths. He recognized some of the decorations lining the walls. The first time through here, he had stopped briefly to admire the scenes of warriors washing in serene pools painted on the hanging canvases. They must have made a few different turns, however, because they ended up in a courtyard of sorts. 

Thinking back, that hot spring had seemed a little small to have been the only thing behind those high walls. Judging from the steam rising on the other side of the bamboo wall on his right, the… garden, he supposed it was, was right next to the bath.

They were directed to a low table at the back of the garden, which Zoro figured was the guest-of-honor table. 

“Please help yourselves while you wait,” the maître d’ said, and from behind him emerged a thin, handsome young man with a tray of sake.

He smiled kindly but kept his eyes downcast as he served them both without saying a word. It was painfully quiet, until Sanji started in on Zoro again as the server left.

“So what the hell is this, Zoro? Seriously?”

* * *

Zoro shrugged and helped himself to his drink. “What is what?”

The cook rolled his eyes. Sanji didn’t know what to think when he’d walked in, and he didn’t know what to think now. First there was the lavish parlor and a well trained maître d’, and then a really expensive looking back yard (which, to Sanji’s eyes, was pretty much what it was). 

“This. Everything.”

“I don’t know,” Zoro shrugged again. “Prostitutes are weird. But its free booze and I’m likely going to get laid again for no charge. I wasn’t _not_ going to come.”

Sanji would normally have laughed, but suddenly he realized that even though he’d been rather blasé about all of this, he was likely going to witness to a lot more man-on-man action than he was used to (which was none). And while the prospect of observing Zoro in different environments with _women_ prostitutes had been downright fascinating, he did not honestly know what he was going to do if some guy just jumped Zoro right in front of him, as was apt to happen at a regular brothel.

“If you’re not going to relax enough to enjoy this, you should just leave,” Zoro said, throwing back another saucer of sake.

Sanji looked up from his own saucer (which he hadn’t realized he was staring into until that point) and frowned. “I’m here, aren’t I? What makes you think I’m not relaxed?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Zoro muttered, and poured himself another. “Your rigid spine, the look of sheer terror on your face, the anxiety that’s so thick around you it _stinks_.”

Sanji drank and shook his shoulders loose. There wasn’t any point arguing that he wasn’t exactly in his element. But if Zoro could relax, so could he. If he wasn’t here for sex, then it was just like hanging out with a bunch of men. He did that all the time on the Sunny.

There were several notable differences about that situation and this, but Sanji convinced himself it didn’t matter. 

“Did you seriously give them your other swords?” Sanji eyed the way Zoro’s most important weapon was wrapped and tied with black ribbon.

Zoro nodded. “They let me in here and treat me really well. The least I can do is follow their rules and relinquish my weapons.”

“But you have the white one still.”

Zoro nodded again and drank. “She’s peace bound. I’m very lucky and very honored they let me keep her.”

Sanji took another slow swallow, thinking. If they were willing to give that one courtesy, bend a rule like that so Zoro could keep his precious sword, this place might not be so bad after all.

“Comfortable?” a smooth voice wafted up from behind Sanji. “Is there anything else I can get for you two?”

The effect that Christian’s voice had on Sanji was perplexing. Even as he felt relief at hearing a familiar timbre, the cook’s body tensed at its proximity. The way the prostitute had moved swiftly and quietly into his space was almost uncanny.

“Hey,” Zoro said softly, raising a hand in greeting. 

“Hello, Zoro,” Christian said over Sanji’s shoulder. “It’s very nice to see you again.”

Zoro’s lips curved like the man has said something funny. “You, too.”

It annoyed Sanji how Zoro’s manner had changed so drastically. The swordsman was terse with him, but then Christian shows up and suddenly the bastard’s all sweet and syrup.

The cook slowly looked over his shoulder, making a physical effort to not glare the prostitute into stone. He was about to voice his own greeting and thank the man for inviting them to dinner, but the words halted on his tongue.

_This has got to be a joke._

Christian was dressed almost identically to himself, right down to the studded belt. His hair was blown dry, but uncombed. Their shirts could have come off the same rack from the same god damned vendor. 

The blond smiled down at him with an impish look in his eye. “Welcome, Sanji,” he hummed. “I’m very glad you decided to join us this evening.”

Sanji had been sure from the first moment he had seen this man, that he had some sort of hidden agenda. The cook had no idea what it could possibly be, but Sanji was never one to play into someone else’s hands, and he wasn’t going to start today. That look, that _challenge_ in Christian’s eyes settled Sanji’s nerves better than any reassurances from Zoro ever could. 

The cook lifted his saucer and saluted the prostitute superciliously. “It’s my pleasure.” He tossed the remainder of his drink back, and set the saucer back on the table with a flourish. He then leaned back and pulled out all the stops, smiling the most charming and arrogant smile in his repertoire.

“Nice outfit.” 

* * *

Zoro knew the fact that Christian resembled Sanji would not go unnoticed. But god damnit, he hadn’t expected Christian to show up looking like Sanji’s _twin!_ Now the fact was _stupidly obvious!_ They had even done their hair the same way! Sanji already had a knack for putting two and two together, so when the cook stopped ruffling his feathers and took a second to think about things, the shit was really going to hit the fan.

This had been a stupid idea. Why had he come again? Oh yeah, free sex. But what the hell was Christian thinking? Was he _trying_ to get Zoro killed? Were these prostitutes so bored that their only entertainment was screwing with pirates passing through? Figuratively speaking?

The swordsman bit back a growl and watched the two blonds make scary eyes at each other. Any other time, in any other situation, Zoro would have sat back and enjoyed the show. The two of them were hot together. _Fucking hot._ But Zoro’s body and mind were too tense at that moment to dwell on that particular line of thought. He felt like he should be readying for a bloody battle, rather than a quiet dinner in a garden.

When the doors opened once again, Zoro was ready for any number of things, but Roman was not one of them.

The prostitute wore soft, cotton pants, and a dark blue shirt, unbuttoned. With his tanned chest showing, and his sleeves rolled up to the elbows, most of his tattoos were visible. Gold hung from his ears and around his neck, and his black hair was pulled back in a tight knot. He looked every bit the rake Zoro had first imagined him to be, and glancing at Sanji, the cook no doubt was catching the same vibe.

“Well, well, well,” Roman said in his cool bass. “You got both of them to show. I’m impressed, Chris.” He moved close and bowed deeply to Sanji. “Welcome, friend. My name is Roman, and I am at your service. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to make your stay more enjoyable.”

Zoro watched Sanji’s jaw work as the cook gave Roman a once over. He seemed a little more at ease with Roman than he did with Christian. The swordsman couldn’t understand why, but Sanji’s mind had always been a little unfathomable to him anyway. 

“Hello,” Sanji said carefully. “And uh, thank you, I guess.”

“Christian has asked me to join him this evening. I hope you don’t mind.”

Sanji shrugged. “I don’t mind.” The cook reached for his pocket, but then stopped, his fingers tapping the fabric outlining the corners of his cigarette pack. 

“Can I smoke in here?” 

Roman nodded. “Please. I’ll have one with you, if that’s all right.”

Sanji seemed to perk up and nodded, offering his lighter when Roman procured his own hand-rolled smoke from some hidden pocket. Roman sat beside Sanji and the two went through the familiar motions of lighting up.

“Fast friends,” Christian murmured with a smile. He sat beside Zoro and across from Sanji, folding his long body onto the cushions with practiced grace.

Zoro grunted, (watching with mounting annoyance from the corner of his eye) as Sanji tipped his head and leaned in close to Roman’s flame. It wasn’t fair. Sanji treated him like crap all the time, but then Roman comes along and, even though the damn cook knows what he is and what he does, gets all chummy with him in ten seconds.

The swordsman had witnessed this strange behavior before. From one end of the world to the other, people of different backgrounds, races, and cultures could all come together for a cigarette. Two people, who wouldn’t have normally given each other the time of day, could talk like old friends when sharing a smoke. Zoro thought how funny it was that breathing toxic fumes into one’s lungs could create such an impenetrable brotherhood.

Maybe he should take up smoking.

“So what’s on the menu?” Sanji asked, pocketing his pack and lighter.

Christian leaned onto the table, effectively placing himself almost in Zoro’s lap. “Miles will bring out a wine list and tell us what’s been prepared in a few minutes.”

The swordsman moved to gently push Christian off, but then remembered he didn’t have to pretend around Sanji anymore. The cook knew his secret, and had willingly come with him to a male brothel. Zoro was going to mind his manners, but if Sanji had come here thinking that because he was present, the swordsman was not taking what was being offered, the fucking love-cook had another think coming.

Zoro leaned an elbow on the table, and nonchalantly slid his hand over Christian’s ass. He made like nothing was happening as his fingers pinched the soft fabric and skin on the blond’s inner thigh. 

Christian squeaked and twisted around playfully and fixed him with a mock glare. 

“Stop it,” he whined, his lips sliding into a pout.

_Oh, if he could just get Sanji to talk to him like that…_

“What?” Zoro teased, lifting an eyebrow innocently. 

Christian snickered and slid slowly away, letting his fingers brush across Zoro’s forearm. He settled back into the cushions and busied himself with pouring more sake. 

“Just ignore them,” Zoro heard Roman murmur. “Christian has no manners.”

Zoro liked the way Christian’s eye sparkled at Roman’s comment. He tore his eyes away from one blond, to glance at another across the table. Sanji was watching him with a peculiar look on his face, but to Zoro’s relief, it wasn’t contempt.

“No,” the cook said softly. “It’s fine. The marimo doesn’t either.”

Zoro would have made some sort of remark to respond to Sanji’s antagonistic comment, but Christian spoke first.

“Well, we’ll try not to freak you out too much,” Christian said, sipping at his sake. “Hopefully you enjoy the meal, and if it makes you more comfortable to know, all the other companions here have been told that you’re ‘hands off’.”

“Other companions?” Sanji asked slowly, “Are we dining with others?”

Roman shook his head. “Not dining. But after dinner, we have entertainment planned.”

Zoro tried not to choke on his sake at the look on Sanji’s face.

“Entertainment?” the cook cracked. “I really don’t-”

Christian laughed, cutting him off. “Not that kind of entertainment. We _are_ prostitutes, as you well know, but we have many things besides sex to offer. We have among us poets, dancers, magicians, artists, chefs, musicians… We are sure to have something to please every man that walks through our doors. Even you, Blackleg Sanji.”

“You have chefs?” 

Christian smiled. “The finest.”

Zoro watched Sanji’s eyebrow cock as his shipmate’s confidence slowly returned. The swordsman could see the tension leave Sanji’s shoulders, the spark return to his eyes. The cook curled his fingers around his cigarette and breathed in slow and deep.

“Could I be entertained by seeing your kitchens?”

“Of course.” Roman stood suddenly, motioning for the cook to follow him. “I’ll take you.”

Sanji crushed out his cigarette in his empty saucer and stood. He saluted Christian, and turned to follow Roman through the gates without a glance in Zoro’s direction. The swordsman started to protest, totally annoyed that Sanji was leaving with Roman, and totally pissed off that he was annoyed at all, but Christian stopped him by placing a hand on his thigh. 

Zoro turned to growl at the smaller man, but immediately his disapproval caught in his throat. Christian had shifted his position, putting himself on his hands and knees. He slowly moved forward, graceful and lithe like a cat. His hair fell into his eyes, making him look so much like Sanji it made Zoro’s mouth water. 

“He’ll be fine.” Christian licked his lower lip. “Roman will take care of him.”

Zoro swallowed. “That’s kind of what I’m afraid of.”

“You can follow in a minute,” Christian chuckled as he crawled up into Zoro’s lap. He ghosted his lips over the swordsman’s jaw, breath warm against Zoro’s skin. “But I wanted a quick appetizer before dinner.”

Zoro shot a quick glance toward the gates. A fleeting thought about Sanji being molested by a man other than himself skittered through his mind. But really, who was he kidding? Roman was a well-built guy, but Sanji was… well, _Sanji_. If the prostituted tried anything, he may very well end up with his ass in his own mouth.

Hands slid down Zoro’s stomach, and the swordsman’s attention returned to Christian. He leaned back on his hands, giving the blond more room to apply his talents. 

“This isn’t going to spoil my dessert, is it?” Zoro asked, smirking.

Christian moved up to nip at Zoro’s lips. “Hell no.”

* * *

“So, how are you liking it?” Roman asked as they made their way through sumptuously decorated halls. 

“Uh,” the cook stammered, “It’s fine… Interesting…”

Sanji couldn’t believe the décor. The place was like a palace. Never before had he seen a brothel in such good repair, or so modern. They must make a fortune. 

“So, I have a question.”

Roman looked at Sanji over his shoulder. “Alright…”

Sanji glanced at a painting hanging on the wall, but turned away quickly when he realized the tangle of limbs had multiple male parts.

“Just out of curiosity… y’know, based on my observations… what kind of price difference are you looking at for a night here, and a night at a high class uh… regular brothel?”

Roman chuckled. “Well, that really depends on who you are, and where you are. But according to what I’ve heard, this is one and a half times the cost of this town’s most prestigious heterosexual brothel.”

“For a night?”

Roman grinned and nodded. Sanji whistled. “I mean, paying for the expensive set up, I get it. But I guess I thought since women were more in demand, they’d be paid more. Thus they’d be more expensive.”

The dark-haired man snorted. “Women are more in demand? They’re more visible. That doesn’t mean they’re more in demand. I'm sure every island you’ve visited has had a male brothel. This place is just more out in the open. We have our precautions because of travelers and pirates from far away, but for the most part, the residents here don’t mind us.”

Sanji highly doubted that men were in more demand than women, but it did make him reconsider just how popular male brothels were.

“Still, one and a half times the cost? Sable was pretty swanky.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure this Sable place had minimum to no security. Think about it.”

The chef avoided looking at a statue of two naked men, contemplating the unusual bits of knowledge he was receiving. They rounded a few more corners in silence before the smell of chives and spiced meat hit Sanji’s nostrils.

“Oh, wow,” the cook hummed. “That smells fucking great!”

Roman flashed him one more raffish smile before he pushed open the doors to a bustling kitchen. Inside were men in a simple uniform of black slacks and light blue t-shirts. They wore various bandannas and caps over their heads as opposed to the traditional chef’s hats or hair nets. They looked up from chopping or stirring as Sanji entered, giving him an appraising once over and smiling warmly.

Roman waved and spoke over the hum of the ovens. “Evening. This is Sanji. He’s a friend of Zoro’s. He wanted to see the kitchen.”

There was a moment where everything seemed to freeze. All eyes turned back to Sanji, staring in disbelief. 

“S…Sanji?” a cook at the prep table choked out. “As in Blackleg Sanji?”

Roman chuckled, nodding.

There was movement again, and a short man with reddish-brown hair emerged from around the rack of pots and pans. He moved forward, wiping his hand on an apron colored with various ingredients before he offered it to Sanji.

“Welcome, Blackleg,” he said in a raspy tenor. “My name is Miles. I’m the head chef here. We’re honored to have you.”

Sanji took the man’s hand, flattered and a little caught off guard. “Um, thank you. Pleasure’s all mine.” _Oh, oops… Was that a good thing to say here?_

“I, uh.” Miles’ cheeks, which had been slightly pink before, started to turn the color of tomatoes. “What can we do for you?”

Roman had moved to the prep table, and was crunching away on a sliced carrot. “Sanji here wanted to give our kitchens an inspection.” His grin grew wide as Miles nearly toppled. 

“No! No!” Sanji reassured before Miles could actually pass out. “I just wanted to see. Christian said the chefs here were great. I was just curious.”

Miles wrung his hands, glancing from table to table nervously. “Ah, alright. Oh, if I’d known…”

Sanji smiled, understanding. He moved forward, placing a hand on the small man’s shoulder. “I just wanted to get an advance on the menu. Maybe see some things prepared. Everything smells wonderful, and I’m very impressed at how clean everything is.” 

Miles looked up at him with big eyes for a long moment. Finally, he blinked and clapped his hands loudly. “Alright! Everyone! Back to what you were doing! Look sharp, look sharp! Let’s show him what we've got!”

Sanji glanced over at Roman. The tattooed man had moved to the back of the kitchen to sit on an unused table. He crunched merrily on what looked like another carrot stick, and watched Sanji with an amused smile.

“Sanji,” Miles said at his side, “if you would just come with me…”

Sanji followed the chef, nodding to a handsome dark-haired man standing over a flaming grill.

“For amuse-bouche,” Miles began, “Link has prepared ‘Essence of Butternut Squash, Presented with a Seared Sea Scallop, Chive Oil and Young Seedlings’. He has also done the appetizer, which is ‘Pan Seared Lump Crab Cake, Presented with Fire Roasted Corn and Cilantro Relish, Smoked Chipotle Aioli, and Butter Poached Leeks’.”

“That the relish?” Sanji pointed to a covered bowl.

Link’s eyes widened, and he pulled the top from the bowl. Miles procured a small spoon, and handed it to Sanji. The blond took a small helping from the edge and brought it to his mouth. He rolled the mixture over his tongue, chewing slowly to let the flavor blossom.

“Is your crab cake spicy?” Sanji asked Link.

The dark-haired man nodded again, looking frightened.

Sanji nodded. “Excellent then. The hot from the cake with the cool from the relish will balance nicely.”

Link let out a long sigh, his shoulders relaxing significantly. He smiled then, and his appreciation and adoration were so apparent, for a moment Sanji felt a little like a god. 

Miles continued on, and Sanji followed. “Next, for the entrée, is ‘Roasted Beet Carpaccio, Presented with Seared Goat Cheese, Beet Syrup, Aged Balsamic Reduction and Mache Greens’.”

The man at the second station was beautiful like a woman. His white hair was long, and braided down his back. His eyes were large and sparkling green. They watched Sanji as he moved in close to sniff at the beets. He was obviously not as shy as Miles or Link.

“What’s your name?” Sanji asked.

The green-eyed man smiled. “Tristin.”

Sanji plucked a slice of beet from the pan, and slipped it into his mouth. He rolled it, like he had the relish. After a few moments, he turned back to Tristin. The cook’s eyes hadn’t left him. He watched expectantly for Sanji to speak. Sanji felt a strange sense of power humming in his nerves at being watched and appraised like that.

Sanji smiled, nodding his head. “Your reduced vinegar is a little sweet, but it’ll be great with the goat cheese.” He took another beet before he moved away, slipping it into his mouth a little slower than last time. “I’ll be looking forward to this one.”

He felt those green eyes on him as he moved with Miles to the next station.

_I think this all might be going to my head a little._

* * *

Zoro ran the fingers of one hand through Christian’s soft hair. He rested his weight on his other arm, propped behind him on the table. He watched the blond’s lips as they slid over his erection, slowly, with such skill it had the swordsman almost twitching.

Getting head from a woman was good in its own way, but nothing beat a man’s knowing and experienced mouth. Who better to give it to you than someone who knows exactly how it feels? This was something Sanji needed to understand. Both sexes had something to give you. Women had tenderness, softness, sweet smells and glossy hair. Men had muscle, passion, power, challenge. 

Zoro let out a breath when Christian looked up at him with those blue eyes. This was a guilty pleasure come to life. A fantasy so much like the one he created for himself on a regular basis, he worried that if he closed his eyes, when he opened them, he would be back in the crow’s nest with nothing around his cock but his own fingers.

He had felt that disappointment before, and wasn’t excited to feel it again anytime soon.

Christian’s hand gripped him hard. His tongue worked Zoro’s length like no one had in a long time. Zoro leaned back, giving himself over to the pressure he felt building in his loins.

“Whatever you do,” Zoro said softly, “don’t let Sanji know we did this so close to the table.”

Christian smiled around Zoro’s arousal, moving to take the swordsman in deeper. He relaxed his throat, bringing his head forward and causing his bangs to fall over his face.

Zoro quickly brushed the blond hair away, wanting—needing to see those blue eyes. He felt himself getting closer. He glanced towards the door, the possibility of Sanji returning with Roman and seeing him like this fueling him further. He raised a knee, pressing a heel into the cushions, and threaded his fingers more firmly through Christian’s hair. The blond’s mouth moved faster, harder, deeper. His fingers massaged Zoro’s sack, slipped lower to press against the few inches of sensitive flesh.

Silently, with Christian’s eyes burned into his brain, and Sanji’s name on the tip of his tongue, Zoro clenched his teeth and came. He released into Christian’s hot mouth, tension draining almost instantly, and hard guilt filling up the spaces it had vacated. 

* * *

Two young men, probably still in their teens, stood by the ovens. Both had pale blond hair and a mass of freckles. Sanji assumed they were brothers, maybe even twins. The resemblance was striking. 

“Our main course tonight is ‘Grilled Fillet of Beef, Presented with Caramelized Shallot and Red Wine Reduction, Crisp Truffle Scented Potato Rosti, White Asparagus and Morel Mushrooms.”

“Hello, Sanji!” The first of the boys smiled. 

The second waved a hand, a mirror of his brother. “We’re big fans.”

“Uh, thank you,” Sanji chuckled. 

“You’re a lot more handsome then your wanted poster shows,” the first piped up.

“Yes,” the second added, “much more handsome.”

Sanji clenched his jaw at the mention of his wanted poster, but he managed to bow his head and be civil.

“Thank you. I hope to get a new one soon.”

The boys giggled and stepped aside as Sanji leaned in to inspect the meat. The smell was divine, and the color was consistent throughout. The first of the brothers cut off a small piece and offered it to Sanji with a wide smile.

“We’re still a little new to this, we’ve only been working here for a few months.”

“But Miles says we’re doing well,” the second added. “He let us do the main course ‘cause you really can’t go wrong with Potato Rosti.”

Sanji chuckled. “No, you really can’t.” He slipped the slice of meat in his mouth, instantly rewarded with texture and an explosion of savory flavors.

“Yup,” Sanji said, “Miles is right. You two do good work.”

The brothers glanced at each other, and then threw their hands in the air.

“Banzai!” they cried.

Chuckling, Sanji chewed the tender meat and swallowed. The food really was fantastic. He wondered why these men worked here at a brothel and not some prestigious restaurant or hotel somewhere. But then again, with the price of this place, they were probably paid more here than they would be at some fancy resort. 

“We think it’s fine the way it is,” the brothers continued.

“Yes, we do. We based the recipe on a dish from the Baratie.”

“But, last time we prepared it, the guest said he wanted peppercorn.”

“We don’t think it needs peppercorn—”

“—It has a spice complementary to the wine reduction—”

“—If we add peppercorn—”

“—It diminishes the effect we’re trying to—”

“Arthur! Simon!” Miles interrupted the onslaught of chatter. “Mind your manners! Give Sanji a chance to reply for god’s sake!”

The brothers closed their mouths, but Sanji could tell the words were piling up behind their lips. He chuckled again, flattered that this kitchen knew him and respected his opinion so much. Even newbie cooks just starting out had heard of him, and had even researched the menu from his beloved Baratie.

“You’re right,” Sanji said. “Peppercorn will take away from the wine reduction. The meat will have too much spice.”

The brothers grinned, and slapped each other a high five.

Miles guided Sanji back to where they had started, smiling brilliantly. “Again, we are so very honored to have you here. I hope that the meal satisfies you. Because dessert has not set yet, I will send out the man who prepared it during the meal so you may critique him as well.”

Sanji nodded. “Sounds great. I really am impressed, you know. I didn’t expect to see what I did here. Your staff is excellent.”

Miles bowed deeply. “Thank you. Thank you very much, Blackleg Sanji.”

Sanji turned and met Roman at the door. The tattooed man was smiling knowingly as he held open the door for the cook.

“Enjoy yourself?” he teased.

“Shut up,” Sanji grinned. “Can I help it that I’m awesome?”

* * *

“So,” Sanji eyed Roman as he pulled his lighter from his pocket. “What’s this entertainment that’s planned for after dinner?” The two had stopped to take a smoke break before they returned to the garden. They leaned against a railing overlooking a side street. The evening sun was at their backs behind the building. 

Roman smiled at the cook over his cigarette and shrugged. “I actually don’t know. This is all Christian’s baby. He thought up the whole thing.”

Sanji’s eyes narrowed in suspicion and he drew in a long drag. “I figured that. What’s his deal anyway?”

“He make you uncomfortable?”

Sanji shook his head. “No. Working as a chef at the Baratie, I crossed paths with a lot of different kinds of people… Different kinds of people with very… different kinds of appetites. Everyone can like or dislike whatever they want, it’s not my place to judge.”

Roman tilted his head, as if seeing Sanji for the first time. “That’s very… tolerant of you.”

“I didn’t say I liked it,” Sanji clarified. “I just… you love who or whatever you love. That’s no one’s business but your own.”

“Ah…” the tattooed man leaned over the railing, blowing a thin stream of smoke out into the open air of the ally. “So, you’re okay with Zoro then? It looked like you were gonna beat the shit out of him earlier today.” 

Sanji’s hand stilled, the cigarette halfway to his mouth. “Excuse me?”

Roman shrugged. “You were waiting for him outside our place this morning. We saw you.”

Sanji’s head spun. That explained a lot.

“I, uh…” he puffed and attempted a lie. “That was about something completely different. It had nothing to do with where Zoro was. He could have been coming out of an opera and I still would have dragged him to the beach and cussed him out.”

Roman chuckled. The sound was a low rumble in his throat. “Well, that’s good, I guess. He’s a cool guy. It’s nice to know he has friends that’ll accept all of him.” 

Sanji stared at the ground, not sure why the topic had changed to Zoro, but for some reason it seemed to fit. “He has a lot of other friends that would accept all of him too, I’m sure…”

Roman nodded. “It’s a hard thing to come clean about, especially out on the sea, being a pirate.”

Sanji remembered the look on Zoro’s face when he had plopped down on the sand beside the swordsman the day before. There had been such shock, such complete and utter surprise plastered across every hard feature of Zoro’s face. Sanji hadn’t taken that much notice of it at the time, but now, as he thought back on it, he remembered there had also been unmistakable relief in those dark eyes. A profound relief that Sanji might have actually taken advantage of, and now the cook felt a little ashamed over it.

The last of Sanji’s cigarette hung smoldering, forgotten between his fingertips. “I won’t let anyone give him shit over it.”

The cook felt a strong hand on his arm and turned to find Roman had straightened and was grinning at him merrily.

“You’re going to have so many fans after this night is over.” 

Sanji sighed and shook his head. “Just as long as they keep their hands and… other stuff to themselves, I don’t really mind.”

“Oh, they will.” Roman nudged Sanji back inside playfully. “They just might not be able to control the brain-mouth filter.”

* * *

“So why are you doing this?” Zoro asked as Christian was midway through crawling into his lap. The satisfied smirk on his face turned inquisitive in a way that almost had Zoro fooled.

“Whatever else I am, I’m not an idiot.”

Christian raised an eyebrow and sat up, straddling Zoro and crossed his arms. “I could say the same to you. I seem to remember asking you the first night if I was playing the role of someone, and you said ‘No’. I think it’s pretty obvious that was a lie, even if you didn’t use his name or ask me to act like him. Not-” He bit his lip momentarily and seemed to search for words, which was a first since Zoro had met Christian. “Not that you’re obligated to be honest to a prostitute.”

Zoro frowned at that statement. “I-”

“If you want to know what I’m up to, I’ll tell you.”

Zoro sighed. 

The smile returned to Christian’s lips and he slid forward slightly, running his hands up Zoro’s torso and stopping to massage his shoulders.

“It seems a damn waste, what you’re doing. So I thought maybe I’d give you a little help.”

“What I’m doing?”

“You’ll never tell him how you feel. Ever. Not without some help from him-”

Zoro’s gaze sharpened. “Now, wait a s-”

“Do you think I’m stupid enough to do anything that would clue him in to how you feel? There are other methods we can use to determine if he is _ever_ going to be interested, so why not use them if there’s no risk of revealing you?”

Christian’s plea was so earnest, Zoro almost wondered why the companion was going so far out of his way for someone he didn’t know. 

“Think about it. This isn’t a chance you’re likely to ever have again. Seeing us get intimate is, to Sanji, like looking in a mirror and watching _himself_ get intimate with you. That’s got to garner some reaction from him; we just have to pay attention and figure out what that reaction is.”

“You’re just going to prove what I don’t want to know. There isn’t a chance. There never will be.”

The look on Christian’s face was close to horrified.

“Then how do you live like this? I knew the moment I saw the two of you together that you loved him-”

Zoro made to interrupt but Christian continued.

“-and I can’t imagine how broken you must be if this is acceptable to you. If living this way makes you happy.”

“It’s better than nothing,” Zoro said, a strong dose of finality in his voice.

Christian’s eyes narrowed like Zoro’s had. The swordsman cringed internally, thinking of how often he’d seen that look from a different man.

“You want me to stop? Honestly? Your raw curiosity or feelings for him don’t demand to be satisfied? Or will you trust me and my group of wily prostitutes to do what’s in your best interest?”

Zoro was ready with another retort, but suddenly he felt Christian tense. He was craning his head toward the door, as if to better hear.

“They’re right outside the door. Follow my lead if you trust me.”

That didn’t leave Zoro with many options. He wasn’t about to shove the man off his lap or storm out, so he just reacted as he normally would as Christian started planting soft kisses on his jaw. He heard Roman and Sanji return, and a sudden and unexpected surge of excitement ran through him. He couldn’t quite understand why, but every nerve in his body seemed to respond to knowing that Sanji could see him this way.

He murmured quietly, “Just don’t blow my cover.”

Christian smiled and replied, “You’re in good hands.”

* * *

Sanji followed Roman through the halls, back towards the open garden and dining area. When they reached the gate, Sanji heard a low murmur followed by a higher, breathy sound that stopped him in his tracks. He stood still for a moment, letting his fighter instinct take over. Listen. Evaluate. Don’t race to conclusions…

Roman halted before the gate and turned to him. “You all right, Sanji?”

The cook felt a strange sort of tightening in his gut as he realized the murmurings were indeed Zoro’s. What was he doing in there? If this were a regular brothel, Sanji wouldn’t put it past the swordsman to already be having his way with some woman on those lush cushions. But this was… they were… would he be doing that knowing Sanji was going to return? Seriously, if he walked in there and... Being okay with your friend’s sexuality was one thing. Walking in on your friend banging another guy was completely different. 

“Sanji?” Roman asked again.

Sanji blinked. “Sorry, I…” _Get it together._ “Never mind,” he straightened his shirt and followed Roman through the gate.

It turned out it wasn’t as bad as Sanji thought… at first. Clothes were still on, no choice parts were hanging out of anywhere—not that he hadn’t already seen Zoro’s, well, _everything_ several times now. Christian was just in Zoro’s lap, his legs straddling the swordsman’s hips in a very woman-like fashion. Zoro’s elbows were propped lazily behind him on the table top. The two were speaking in low tones and stealing kisses here and there. It wasn’t that bad, not really.

Until Sanji realized, for the second time, just how much Christian looked like him.

The cook almost stumbled as he made his way back to the table, but he managed to return to his seat without face-planting on the floor. He reached for the sake and poured himself a full cup, setting the bottle down in front of Roman in case the other man wanted some as well. He raised the cup to his lips and snuck another peek at the two men across from him.

Zoro wore that same, stupidly charming smile he always wore when slipping his hands discretely under hooker’s dresses. He did that same damned head tilt when he was teasing a prostitute out of her corset or camisole. The fucking swordsman was chuckling softly and rubbing his nose under Christian’s jaw and Sanji wanted to scream. If someone were to take a picture at this moment as Christian bent to whisper something into Zoro’s ear, no one would know the blond in Zoro’s lap _wasn’t_ Sanji. 

The whole thing was surreal, and Sanji hated himself for suddenly feeling a little out of body. It was like he was watching a “what if” scenario. He was getting a full, real life preview of how it would look if he decided one day to just climb up into Zoro’s lap and start nibbling on the shitty swordsman’s chin. Watching Christian’s lips graze softly over Zoro’s rough skin, the way the goddamn marimo smiled and brushed Christian’s bangs from his forehead, tortured Sanji in some strange, fundamental way that he couldn’t understand. The way Christian’s legs fit so perfectly over Zoro’s hips… the way Zoro’s tongue-

“You gonna drink that?” 

Roman’s voice jolted Sanji out of his thoughts, and the cook sloshed sake onto his fingers as he whipped his head around to stare bug-eyed at the other man.

“Uh…” Sanji stammered. _Great, real smooth._ “Oh, yeah.”

But before Sanji could bring the cup to his lips, Miles entered the garden, dressed in a fine black chef’s coat, and bowed deeply in the general direction of the table.

“Gentlemen,” he said as he straightened, “the meal is ready.”

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

“Okay, but then try doing that naked while being cornered by an angry whore who’s pissed that you stole her customer!”

Laughter rippled through the group sitting around the table. Sanji sucked on his twelfth, or maybe thirteenth, cigarette of the night and threw back another shot. Dinner had more than exceeded his expectations, and he made sure to shower Miles with praise, and promised to show him a few tricks before he left town. As dinner had wrapped up, more companions had begun to join them until he began to wonder if there was anyone left to actually service any patrons that might have arrived.

Some had brought instruments and played enthusiastically in the background while others had brought playing cards, cigars, more alcohol, and plenty of loud stories and antics to keep him so distracted he almost, _almost_ forgot where he was. He kept expecting to turn around and see his other crew mates amongst the crowd, that’s how normal it all seemed.

A few of the boys batted their eyelashes at him, but that was as far as any flirting went. A few of the braver ones threw harassing comments at him about what he was missing, but as far as conversation went, it was more often about something other than their profession.

Other than a lingering sense of anxiety he could neither place nor shake off, loathe as he was to admit it, he was comfortable. He was enjoying himself. Christian had exchanged his smug, scheming demeanor for what seemed like well-meaning friendliness. Sanji was sure that the anxiety had something to do with him, but every time it occurred to the chef to focus on it, he was distracted with another drink, or story, or joke. And there was the fact that he’d become downright friendly since Zoro-

Where was Zoro, anyway?

Sanji suddenly realized that in the haze of smoke, alcohol and good entertainment that he’d lost track of his crewmate. He’d been sitting over by Christian a while ago...

Roman was gone now, too.

He wasn’t going to panic. He’d half expected this to happen. Zoro had shown up for the free food, booze, and potentially sex. Zoro could be off somewhere doing any or all three of those things with anyone, and it probably wasn’t in Sanji’s best interest to try and track him down.

That didn’t keep him from being irritable about it. It was only 9 o’clock! Not that he couldn’t hold his own - he was enjoying himself, and Zoro’s presence or lack thereof wasn’t going to change that. But he couldn’t help but feel all the more exposed for swordsman's absence.

“Just now noticed, huh?” Suddenly Christian was next to him and muttering in his ear.

Sanji turned his head, leaning in conspiratorially to growl close to Christian’s jaw. “The hell you talking about?”

Christian plucked the cigarette from Sanji’s lips before the cook could even think to do anything about it. After the third or fourth smoke lost to the prostitute’s lips, Sanji had stopped complaining. It was sort of Christian’s _thing_.

“I’m talking about your frantic search for Zoro,” Christian smiled, inhaling. “He’s been missing for about half an hour. Time flies when you’re having fun.” That unabashedly friendly attitude Christian had adopted was suddenly gone, and Sanji now had the infuriating suspicion that Christian was laughing at him somehow.

Sanji narrowed his eyes and pulled out another cigarette. “S’not my problem. Shitty swordsman never had any manners.”

Christian grinned and raised an eyebrow. “There’s someone I would like you to meet.”

It was Sanji’s turn to raise an eyebrow at the sudden change in topic.

“C’mon,” Christian smiled and bit his lip. Sanji couldn’t imagine why Christian thought that little act would work on him. “We made you a promise that we wouldn’t offend your delicate sensibilities, and I intend to stick to that promise. Just follow me.”

Sanji was not inclined to follow, but neither was he inclined to argue. Christian had already gotten to his feet and was looking at him expectantly.

He exhaled slowly and finished off the cigarette. He rose to his feet, noting that the action was a slightly more wobbly affair than he’d anticipated. He was probably down by two bottles of sake and three beers, so it shouldn’t have surprised him. Mixing alcohol was never a good idea anyway, and man he had to piss.

“Alright, but swing me by the restroom first.”

Christian grinned and nodded, ushering Sanji past the multitude of people who had joined their party. Some people loudly objected, but Christian waved them off and promised to bring Sanji back to them shortly.

As the two moved through the establishment, Sanji made it a point to try and walk paralleled to the wall. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that making sure you didn’t appear wobbly was a sure sign that you were and had passed the point of tipsy. But Sanji knew for certain that Christian had pounded back almost twice the amount of alcohol he had and the prostitute was still balanced. It was a pride thing.

He was inwardly relieved when Christian revealed the whereabouts of the bathroom, thinking maybe he could piss part of the drunk out of himself. It didn’t work, but at least now he didn’t have to worry about holding it in _as well_ as being drunk.

As he was washing his hands, Sanji happened to glance at his own reflection in the mirror and was puzzled as his chest tightened suddenly with that same anxiety he’d been trying to push out of his mind. He frowned at his reflection when he found himself thinking, “God, we’re so fucking alike it’s creepy.” He studied himself momentarily, and suddenly images of Christian fluttered through his mind - smoking, drinking, laughing, grinning haughtily, climbing atop Zoro, whispering in the swordsman’s ear - 

“Ugh,” he sighed and shook his head, drying his hands and heading for the door. His mind was trying to work something out, but not all the pieces were there, and he wasn’t going to put his energy into it right damn now.

“I’ve got a question for you,” Christian said as soon as Sanji was out of the men’s room.

“Yeah? What?” he said, a fresh cigarette that Christian was bound to steal at some point dangling from his mouth.

Christian threw him a thoughtful look over his shoulder as they continued on toward... wherever the hell Christian was taking them. “More of an observation really, I’ve noticed that you and Zoro spend a lot of time together, but you two still act like you can’t stand each other sometimes.”

“That’s because we can’t,” Sanji answered simply.

Christian laughed. “That wasn’t actually my question, but thank you for clearing that up.”

Sanji, feeling a little steadier, slipped his hands into his pockets and quickened his pace so he could walk beside the other man. After a period of silence (that was longer than what was comfortable for Sanji) had passed, the cook pressed.

“So what _is_ your question?”

Christian hesitated at the bottom of a small staircase for a moment, but then began to climb.

“You really love him a lot, don’t you?”

Sanji froze, his hand halfway to the railing. If any of those metaphors about blood turning to ice or your heart stopping for a moment were true, it was all happening to Sanji simultaneously. Somewhere, in the back of the cook’s mind he had worried something like this would happen. He had hidden a feeling deep down somewhere that someone would get the wrong idea about why he was here. Sanji was suddenly so angry that he bit the tip of his cigarette filter off. An old habit, and one he’d thought he’d broken years ago.

Spitting the destroyed filter on the ground, Sanji stomped out the burning cherry. He glared through a curtain of his blond hair and let his voice drop to a soft and dangerous level.

“Don’t act like you know me,” the cook fumed. “Don’t take a couple of curious looks or some confused behavior and turn it into something it’s not. Just because you’re gay, doesn’t mean that everyone else in the fucking world is gay too! Don’t jump to fucking conclu-”

Christian spun on him so quickly that Sanji’s next words caught in his throat.

“I meant as a friend!” Christian growled. “I meant as a comrade, as a _crewmate!_ Don’t take a simple question and turn it into something it’s not!” The smaller blond’s eyes burned as he threw Sanji’s words back in his face.

“Don’t act like _you_ know _anything_ about _me_ …”

Sanji backed away. His anger slowly melted and was replaced with a deep and intense shame. Sanji wasn’t at all used to feeling that particular emotion, so when he did, it was always profound and somewhat crippling. He was being a bigot, and the realization made him slightly queasy. He didn’t want to be like that, not at all.

Dropping his gaze, the cook slipped his hands back into his pockets and dropped his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t… I’m… a little out of my element.”

He heard Christian snicker, but didn’t look up.

“So who’s jumping to conclusions, exactly?” the prostitute said softly.

Sanji sighed and ran a hand over his face, his shame quickly shifting into something like embarrassment. “You know, can we just go back, forget I said anything?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, so why? Why are you asking me if I lo-” Sanji stopped, cleared his throat, “-care about Zoro? Why do you care? What’s your ultimate objective?” 

Christian was quiet for so long, that Sanji finally had to look up. The eyes that met his were no longer blazing, and the cook was surprised to see that they looked a little sad.

“I’m just trying to understand you a little better,” Christian murmured.

Sanji snorted. “Why do you want to understand me better?”

Something flickered across Christian’s face, something that caused the other man to stare right through Sanji and into some distant memory. It only lasted a moment, however, and Christian quickly blinked the look away.

“Just don’t want to see you do something that you’ll regret.”

With that, Christian gave him one more pointed look and turned to continue up the stairs. Sanji huffed and puffed, scrambling after the prostitute and whispering incredulously as they climbed.

“You say that to me after I’ve come to a male brothel and gotten myself halfway drunk already? Who knows what kind of shit I’m gonna regret in the morning!”

Christian giggled. The cook could see that somber gaze was quickly disappearing and the man’s flirtatious air was coming back, wrapping itself around Christian’s skinny frame like a blanket. “Oh, so now you don’t trust yourself with alcohol around all our pretty boys?”

Sanji almost slapped himself for walking into that one. “No! No, I was just-”

“I know what you meant, Sanji. You don’t have to explain.”

Sanji huffed some more, but decided it might be a good idea to close his mouth and keep it closed. He had been intrigued by the Christian that had stared down at him from the stairs. That Christian had seemed sincere and almost stoic, a drastic change from the Christian Sanji had gotten to know earlier at dinner, but even if his naturally curious mind wanted to know more, his rational self had decided it was time to shut up. 

They continued on past another hall when something in Sanji’s peripheral vision demanded that he turn his head and look.

He truly, truly wished he hadn’t. And now he was frozen where he stood, absolutely unable to look away. He wouldn’t recall until much later that - again - it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Nothing out of the ordinary was in view (unless you count Zoro and Roman getting to second base with alarming speed ‘out-of-the-ordinary’), and he’d seen Zoro in far more exposed and intimate states than this. 

The fact that he was passionately being embraced by another man was not the main issue. Zoro’s sexuality wasn’t really all that paramount when one considered and meditated - even if just briefly - on the fact that, based on his current observations, Zoro potentially allowed other men to fuck _him_. Because Sanji’s now stunned mind could at least make the connection that it was Zoro’s arms being pinned to the wall, and it was Zoro’s head that was thrown back in closed-eyed pleasure, and that it was Zoro who was letting Roman dig a knee in between his thighs and thrust his hips forward -

Suddenly he felt himself being pulled forward and he stumbled awkwardly as Christian tugged him away.

“As interesting as that scene was, I can imagine you probably wouldn’t want Zoro to catch you gawking like that.”

“I was not _gawking_ ,” Sanji quickly argued and pulled his arm away.

“Sure,” Christian smiled.

Sanji pretended not to be affected, but his shock was considerable. He was split between trying not to think about it, and wondering why it had never crossed his mind in the first place. Surely it wasn’t Zoro’s normal -

No. No, no, no, no. Sanji willed himself violently not to think about it, but he couldn’t help but ask himself what was next? First he learned that Zoro was sexually active at all. Then he learned that Zoro didn’t mind sharing women. Then he learned that Zoro did guys. And now he knew that Zoro probably didn’t mind guys doing _him_.

“Close your mouth,” Christian chuckled.

Sanji’s mouth snapped shut. What was the matter with him? Shit, he couldn’t even blame his behavior on the alcohol! His buzz had mostly gone away during the confrontation at the bottom of the stairs… mostly, but he was still walking in a half-daze with his jaw scraping on the ground. What the hell!

“That bother you that much?” Christian asked, startling Sanji with how heavy that statement sounded.

“Uh, no… I was just…” Sanji fought for words as Christian led him up yet another flight of stairs. “I was just trying to make the… mechanics work in my head.” 

Christian shot him a confused look. “Mechanics? What the hell are you-” suddenly understanding dawned. “Oh, oh I forgot. You’re straight, so you have to categorize. Whatever.” He shrugged and led Sanji through a small corridor. “To my knowledge, Zoro is mostly a top, but obviously there are exceptions.”

Sanji licked his lips and halted when Christian stopped in front of a plain wooden door. “So…” _Oh shit, was he really asking this?_ “He… when he… uh, with you…”

Christian smiled wide and turned around to lean against the door. He arched a little and let his head fall back like Sanji had seen hundreds of women do. “Yeah, he fucked me.” Christian’s eyes slid shut and his tongue slowly ran over his bottom lip. “He fucked me so good I’m still feeling it right now…”

Sanji held his breath. He wasn’t sure how to even begin to react. Christian’s words made him hot and cold and uncomfortable and curious and a whole list of things Sanji didn’t want to think about. But before he could say or do anything, Christian was already turning around and opening the door.

“Hellooo?” Christian’s voice had quieted, lightened like he was talking to a small child.

“Here kitty, kitty…”

* * *

Roman grinned as he watched Sanji stare blatantly at what he and Zoro were doing. Christian had timed it _perfectly_ , that conniving bastard was so good. And all he needed to do was push the envelope a little bit further - what was show business without a little risk? - so he nudged his knee in between Zoro’s thighs and thrust forward, eliciting an angry, but _hot_ growl from Zoro’s throat. And then they were gone, his mission was done, but there was still Zoro to contend with, so instead of continuing on in the hall, he coaxed the swordsman towards one of the empty rooms.

It was odd to have your clothes ripped from your body, he noted. Usually they had special tear-able mesh for patrons who were into that kind of thing, but he’d never bedded anyone actually strong enough to rip his _normal_ clothes from his body. He’d also never seen _anyone_ give him the predatory look Zoro was now aiming at him.

He wondered briefly if he could claim destroyed clothing as an expense under the house’s budget.

* * *

Sanji was about to follow Christian into the room, but the prostitute held up a hand for him to wait.

“Hey, you in here?” Christian poked his head around the door. 

“Yeah,” a soft voice replied.

Christian huffed. “Well? Are you gonna come down, or what?”

Sanji heard shuffling and a quiet sigh before the voice continued. “I was down there. Now I want to be up here.”

Pulling his pack from his pocket, Sanji placed an unlit cigarette between his lips. He wondered why Christian had dragged him here. Male prostitutes were hard enough to deal with, so what the hell was he supposed to do with one that didn’t want to entertain?

Christian was having none of this prostitute’s unsociable behavior, however. He cocked a hip and smiled charmingly. “But I brought you a present.”

Sanji heard another soft sigh and more shuffling. “What is it?”

Christian turned to Sanji then, the smallest and evilest of smiles pulling oh so subtly at his lips. He held up a hand and beckoned with one finger for Sanji to follow him. Sanji bit back a snappy remark about prostitutes thinking they could tell him what to do, and moved through the doorway.

Inside, the room was small and sparsely furnished, but a few candles lit the small space giving it a warm and kind of homey feel. The first thing Sanji noticed were the rows of bookshelves lining the walls filled with all manner of cook books, recipe journals, dining etiquette manuals, and other various volumes dedicated to the art. Sanji took it all in quickly and turned his attention to the man seated partially facing away from him on the low bed. 

He was young and very thin, with soft features and long brown hair tied up in a messy knot. He wore nothing but a pair of soft, cotton pants, and seemed to be busying himself with stacking a few worn, leather books on the nightstand. Sanji recognized him immediately as the man who had served them sake when he and Zoro had first arrived.

“You know, I’m kind of tired,” the man said wearily. “Maybe we could do this another-”

When the young man looked up and noticed Sanji there leaning against the door, his brown eyes bulged almost right out of his skull. Whatever else happened to his face, Sanji wasn’t sure because the man promptly yanked the bed sheet over himself, and with an undignified squeak, rolled off the bed and onto the floor.

Sanji shot a look at Christian, who was grinning so wide his teeth seemed endless.

“Christian, you son of a bitch!” the man cried out from behind the bed. He scrambled up from the floor. He braced one arm on the mattress and held the sheet over his chest with the other like he had something to hide. 

“I’ve told you a million times to stop bringing guys up here when I’m not dressed!”

Christian laughed. “I’m a guy.”

“You don’t count!” 

Sanji, not wanting to get caught up in whatever weird prostitute thing these two had going, pulled out his lighter and lit up. He had spotted the ashtray on the window sill, and figured it was allowed.

The younger man stood and pulled open the door to the closet. He yanked it partially closed behind him and dropped the sheet. “You’re such an ass…” 

“Aw, you don’t have to be such a priss,” Christian teased. “Not after I went through all this trouble to get him up here to compliment you on your dessert.”

Suddenly, Sanji was interested.

“You?” Sanji asked, surprised. “You made the panna cotta?”

The man emerged slowly from the closet, wearing a very feminine long sleeved button down. He nervously ran a palm over his hair and then clasped his hands in front of him. He nodded slowly, seemingly unable to meet Sanji’s eyes.

Sanji was amazed. This man—this boy—couldn’t have been older than sixteen or seventeen, but the dessert he had sampled earlier in the evening had been fantastic. Sanji had asked around, trying to find the cook who had put it together, but the kitchen staff had told him that particular cook had left already.

“I haven’t come across a panna cotta made from real gelatin in years!” Sanji exclaimed. “You actually did it with boiling fish bones, didn’t you?”

Again, the man nodded. His gaze darted around the floor as if searching for something. His cheeks had started to turn a light shade of pink, but Sanji had expected that due to the reactions of the other cooks.

“That’s the traditional way,” Sanji continued, turning to glance at Christian. Sanji’s enthusiasm for cooking made him almost forget where he was and who he was talking to. “You can easily tell the real from the fake, so traditional way is always best.”

“Of course,” Christian smirked.

“Hey,” Sanji said, turning back to the younger man, “what’s your name? I have to give you credit if I ever use your recipe.”

“Aw,” Christian cooed, moving close and sliding an arm around Sanji’s shoulders. “Do you really not recognize him?”

“Of course he doesn’t recognize me, Christian,” the man murmured. “Don’t be an idiot.” 

Suddenly, Sanji realized that Christian was in fact drunk. He hadn’t noticed it before (he’d been too busy worrying and stressing over other things) but there was a subtle difference in the way the prostitute was speaking. A very slight slur he had not picked up on while on the way here. In Sanji’s own defense, Christian was superb at hiding it, but now, as the slighter man leaned against him, Sanji had a very real and very accurate idea of just how off balance Christian really was. 

“Well,” Christian hummed, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Meanwhile, I have a few things I need to… attend to.” The blond released Sanji and moved back through the doorway. “I’ll send someone up with something to drink. Maybe later you can come back to the party? I did promise you wouldn’t be gone long after all.”

Sanji watched him go, and almost thanked Christian aloud for not shutting the door behind him. When he returned his gaze to the man before him, Sanji sucked on the cigarette and slipped his hands in his pockets.

“I’m sorry,” Sanji said. “I’ll leave you alone if you-”

“No,” the man interrupted, “you’re fine. And you don’t have to apologize for Chris, he always bullies me. I’m used to it.”

Sanji tapped his ashes in the tray and placed the cigarette back between his lips. The brunette was still looking at the floor and his hands were still clasped tightly in front of him.

“Little shy for this line of work, aren’t you?” Sanji asked.

That earned Sanji a small smile. The man tucked a nonexistent lock of hair behind his ear and cleared his throat.

“Not shy… just… embarrassed.”

Sanji chuckled softly. “Also out of place in this line of work.” Another inhale. “So why does Christian think I know you?”

The man’s body tensed for a fraction of a moment, then he let out a breath and seemed to slump dejectedly. He took a few steps forward and raised a hand to pull the tie from his hair. Soft, brown locks fell around his face and down past his shoulders. He stopped when he came close and finally looked up to meet Sanji’s gaze with dark brown eyes. 

“This a little more familiar?” he asked.

Sanji was startled. He looked like a girl. He _really_ looked like…

Wait…

Realization dawned and Sanji gasped, almost dropping the cigarette from his lips. Thankfully, he caught it clumsily at the last moment in his fingertips.

“Holy shit!” he cried. “Saul!”

* * *

Christian wasn’t sure how, but Zoro had apparently mastered the art of the ‘come-hither-grunt’. Yeah, the muscle-head _had_ just grunted at him, but the look in his eyes when he did it, and the fact that he was nonchalantly thrusting his cock into Roman’s mouth with his hand fisted tightly in the older prostitutes’ hair somehow made it a sexy-as-fuck gesture.

Chris’ clothes were off in the blink of an eye and he quickly crawled onto the ledge of the bed, greeting Zoro with a kiss. The dynamic was going to be interesting, considering that while Christian knew he had Zoro wrapped around his finger, it was quite a different situation between Roman and the green haired man. But he couldn’t pride himself on being a good prostitute if he couldn’t help with that. 

Smiling, he slowly pushed Zoro down onto his back and kissed his way down the man’s hard belly to join Roman at his rigid cock. 

Zoro groaned and threw an arm over his eyes as Christian’s mouth joined the one already working him thoroughly. He sighed and released his death grip from Roman’s head, allowing himself to enjoy the warm buzz of the alcohol and over abundance of free-floating pheromones.

* * *

“Okay, now put it down again,” Sanji instructed.

Saul rolled his eyes, but obediently let his hair down. The tresses fell around his face, shadowing his features just right so that his cheekbones seemed more prominent and his eyes brighter.

“Wow…” Sanji murmured. “Okay, one more time? Put it back up?”

“What am I, a trick monkey!?” Saul cried, but Sanji could tell that the man enjoyed the attention. Saul was hiding a smile, just not very well. 

“Sorry, it’s just really amazing.” Sanji scratched at his chin. “You’re a totally normal looking guy, but then you can be this really attractive girl too.”

The blush that had made camp on Saul’s face deepened at Sanji’s words.

“Thank you…” the brunette whispered. 

Sanji froze for a moment. Several responses flashed through his head, but either they were too cruel, or too frightening for him to actually utter aloud. He wetted his lips, coming to a conclusion, and quickly cleared his throat.

“You’re welcome.”

An awkward silence passed, and Saul seemed to cave in on himself a little. A voice inside Sanji’s head started screaming about how much easier this would all be if Saul were really a girl. It would be so simple to just take his—her—hand, kiss _her_ soft skin and compliment _her_ hair or lips or body or dessert, or whatever else came to mind. Saul obviously liked him, and it would be so easy to just take him— _her!_ —into his arms and lay him— _her!_ —gently down on the bed. If Saul were a girl, Sanji could kiss and caress that nervousness away and then he wouldn’t feel like such an ass.

Frantically, Sanji searched for something that he could use.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a cook?”

Saul shrugged. “I’m not really, and I didn’t want to seem… like a groupie I guess.”

Sanji smiled and crushed his cigarette out in the ashtray. “What were you reading before you were so rudely interrupted?”

Saul’s head shot up and Sanji was happy to find that the blush had receded.

“I, um…” Saul stammered. “Soup. I mean, a book on soups. I’ve been working on some to go with the house salads, but when it gets cold, I want to be able to put together something hardy that can be eaten alone. Kind of like the Baratie’s house chowder or the lamb stew.”

Sanji blinked. “The house… you know the Baratie’s… how do you…?”

Saul chuckled nervously and moved to the bedside. He pulled open the drawer to the night stand and took a familiar looking menu and pamphlet from inside. He handed them to Sanji.

Staring down at the recipes he had lived and breathed for years, Sanji felt an overwhelming sense of pride wash over him. He glanced up and smiled at the man in front of him. “You like my chowder?” he asked.

Saul nodded, his hands clasping and unclasping at his waist.

Suddenly, everything made a little more sense. Saul and the rest of the cooks here took their craft very seriously. They used recipes from famous restaurants, including the Baratie, and followed Sanji’s adventures with the Strawhat pirates because he was a confederate of the same art. Christian had brought him here to tie worlds together essentially.

Sanji had to give the guy credit for being a conniving bastard. 

Glancing at the journals stacked on the nightstand, Sanji continued. “Do you apprentice for someone here?”

Saul started to wring his hands together. “I, um, no. I don’t actually work in the kitchen. They just let me make something once in a while. Dessert mostly, the boys here like my dessert. Miles is extremely kind to me, but he told me I need to either work from the bottom, or go to school like the others did.”

Sanji shook his head. “That shouldn’t matter. You’re good enough to work here, better even.”

The blush returned, and Sanji was surprised to find that it pleased him to see it. In the back of his mind, Sanji knew he was walking potentially hazardous ground. He knew being in this position of unrestrained admiration was not the best idea, especially when slightly intoxicated, but it did things to his ego that he really didn’t want to stop. He liked being the center of someone’s universe for once, and it didn’t matter if it was a girl or a boy. Sanji enjoyed the thrill, and—if he was to be completely honest with himself—it helped that Saul really was a very beautiful ‘woman’. 

A knock on the door startled Sanji from his thoughts. He turned to see one of the prostitutes from downstairs standing there in the open doorway, carrying a medium sized bottle.

“Christian told me to bring this up to you,” he said, his voice cordial despite the glimmer of annoyance in his eyes.

“What is it?” Sanji asked.

“Fire Tequila,” the prostitute answered, his voice slightly slurred. He twirled the bottle in his hands and tossed his head, sending his wavy blond bangs back and away from his eyes. He glanced at Saul and leaned against the doorway.

“You gonna come back down anytime soon? Or are you going to waste your night away with the _handyman_?”

Seeing the way this prostitute looked at Saul, and the way Saul seemed to shrink away at the man’s words as if he had been physically struck, Sanji felt a tremendous and inexplicable protectiveness come over him. It didn’t make sense, considering Saul was in fact a man, but Sanji knew this feeling well. He had felt it many times before with Nami and Robin, maybe even with Chopper a few times. 

Looking back to the doorway, Sanji took a step forward and took the bottle from the drunken prostitute’s hand. The man licked his bottom lip and smiled condescendingly, his eyes flicking back to Saul as if to say “I win”. This, more than anything else, got Sanji’s blood boiling. One could chalk it up to chivalry, protecting the weak, or maybe just defending a fellow cook, but whatever it was, Sanji took a leap headfirst into unknown and treacherous territory.

Sanji flipped the bottle in his hand as well as any expert bartender, and smiled at the man before him.

“Tell everyone I apologize, but I’ve decided to partake of this establishment’s quality merchandise. Saul has been ever so hospitable. I’ll come back down when I’m done with him.”

At this, the blond prostitute straightened slowly, his nostrils flaring with rage. Sanji could smell the alcohol on him and silently prayed he didn’t start something. This place had truly been very accommodating and Sanji didn’t want to have to break anything.

“Are you seriously telling me that you’d rather stay up here with _the help_ than party with all of us downstairs?”

Suddenly angry, Sanji shot the blond prostitute a glare that should have stopped his heart. He then grabbed the door, slammed it shut in the other man’s dumbstruck face, and turned to Saul who was staring at him in utter shock. 

“Cooks aren’t fucking _‘help’_.” Sanji growled as he kicked off his shoes. Moving toward the low bed, he held up the bottle. 

“Drink?”

* * *

Roman probably thought he was off the hook since Christian had joined him, but Zoro would neither forgive nor forget his insolence in the hallway. There he was, his length sliding in and out of Christian’s mouth with ease, a smug and dangerous grin on his face. He was just so sure that the swordsman wasn’t going to make him pay for it.

Zoro smirked right back at him and kissed Christian’s skin between his shoulder blades, still thrusting into the blond below him. 

“Once wasn’t enough to keep _you_ from trying to rut with me in the hallway,” Zoro licked his lips then looked down at Christian’s languid body, “and _you_ somehow think I’m complacent in your scheming. Is the customer service here really that good, or am I just special?” He punctuated the last word with a particularly sharp thrust.

Christian had a response that had something to do with Sanji probably being impressed by such vocabulary, but he found his mouth a little full at that moment, and settled for whimpering his protest instead.

Zoro’s proclamation excited and unsettled Roman at the same time. “Couldn’t help myself,” was his breathy response.

Christian wondered if he was going to get to join this conversation at all when Zoro shifted the mattress and suddenly Roman was helping turn him and prop his friend into Zoro’s lap. Christian thought that was a very gentlemanly thing to do before he realized suddenly he was very snug between the both of them, Zoro deep inside of him and Roman pressed against his back.

* * *

The fire tequila lived up to its name. It burned like a motherfucker going down, but eventually, after a few swallows, the sensation was much less noticeable and Sanji felt much more relaxed. He offered some to Saul and watched in fascination when the smaller man tossed back the cup he had poured him like it was water. The cook stifled a laugh, thinking of how it was always the small and seemingly frail ones that could always knock it back like it was nothing.

Saul wiped his lips delicately with the tips of his fingers. “What’s funny?”

Okay, maybe he hadn’t done the best job of stifling it. “You, uh… your um…” _Shit, how should he answer?_

Saul let out a small laugh. “I’m sorry. I’ll ask easier questions from now on.”

Sanji shifted his position on the bed and lifted the bottle to his lips. “It’s not… they’re not hard questions.” He took a swallow. “I’m just not sure how to talk to you.”

Saul bent his leg and rested his cheek on his knee. “You can just sit here and drink, you don’t have to talk.”

Chuckling, Sanji shook his head. “No. That would be rude, and I’m not the kind of person that’s rude to…” 

Sanji stopped, realizing that he had been about to dub Saul with some flowery epithet he usually reserved for persons with breasts. Was he completely drunk? Was he going insane!?

“…to what?” Saul looked at him expectantly. “People in general? Hookers? Trannies? Aspiring cooks?”

“Yes,” Sanji grabbed the lie and held on to it for dear life. “Fellow cooks.”

Saul’s mouth turned up in a small smile. His cheeks flushed a much deeper red then they had previously and Sanji felt himself unwillingly charmed yet again.

“What’d I say?” 

Saul shrugged. “Uh… you called me a fellow cook, like I am one already.” The slight man pulled his other leg up and wrapped his arms around his knees. “It just sounded nice, especially coming from you.”

“You are a cook,” Sanji said firmly. “You have the talent, and more importantly, you have the desire.” He made a gesture around the room. “I see all these books, hear the way you talk about your creations and your ideas… I’ve known professional chefs and men that _own_ restaurants that have less passion than you do.”

“You can’t start a restaurant with just passion,” Saul said quietly.

“Who says?” Sanji asked.

Saul made a face. “It’s easy for you to say. You’re probably the most famous chef in the world right now.”

Charmed, Sanji rubbed the smile off his face with his fingers. Whoever said flattery will get you nowhere had been mistaken.

“Is that your goal?” Sanji asked. “Start a restaurant?”

Saul stared into his cup, embarrassment pulling at the lines around his eyes. “Sort of. I’d love to have a restaurant someday, but more importantly, I want to start some kind of outreach, like a soup kitchen or something.”

Sanji blinked. “Like a charity?”

Saul nodded. “I want to help people that don’t have anywhere to go or have no money for food. I want to offer them something so maybe they wouldn’t have to do what I do.”

“Why do you do what you do?” Sanji asked suddenly, surprising himself.

Saul looked up at him with wide eyes. His lips parted as if to answer, but then closed again. He seemed to think carefully before he spoke.

“You ask that like I have some kind of choice.”

Sanji shrugged. “Don’t you?”

Saul frowned. “No.”

“Why not?”

Saul sighed and held his cup out for Sanji to refill again. “I have no skills besides the cooking, and no kitchen wants to hire someone off the street. I have no credentials, I never went to school. I’ve been on my own since I was eight.”

“But selling yourself like-”

“Sex is something easy and natural. There’s always a market for it.” Saul frowned into his cup. “Please don’t… judge me like you’re doing right now. You have no idea what it’s like to be all alone and starving to death in some dark back alley.”

Sanji froze as his entire perception of the situation shifted. He had stepped in it, big time, and now he felt like an asshole again. Who was he to play better-than-thou? Saul had been through a similar hell to his own, and all he thought about was helping others. He still harbored hope that he could save people from a life like his own. 

What would Sanji’s life have been like if Zeff hadn’t come along? What would he be doing now if he hadn’t been taken in by strong arms and dangerous legs, given a home, and taught a trade? What dark, back alley would he be crawling around in right at this very moment?

“I’m sorry…” Sanji whispered.

Saul sipped slowly at the tequila. Sanji watched the other man for a few moments, taking in his thin shoulders, his long, slender neck, and his sad and lonely eyes. He watched as Saul tucked another nonexistent lock of hair behind his ear in a gesture that was so feminine, it was almost shocking.

“It’s okay…” Saul said quietly.

It was funny, Sanji thought to himself, how he had been shamed twice in one day by a prostitute…

* * *

Christian was nothing if not a perfect distraction. Zoro didn’t even twitch as Roman slid in behid him and ran his hands over the sides of Zoro's hips and stomach. The swordsman was far too busy fucking the blond below him to give his full attention to the fact that the older prostitut was eagerly running his lips over his skin unrestrained, or that one hand had begun tracing his scar, or that Roman’s hard length was resting heavily against his ass.

But eventually - maybe it was when Roman had started biting hard on his neck and grinding against him in a not-so-gentle plea to be allowed in Zoro’s and Christian’s reindeer games - Zoro noticed that perhaps this was Roman’s way of asking permission to fuck.

A giggle, yes a _giggle_ from Christian drew his momentarily wandering mind back to the man beneath him.

“What exactly is so fucking funny?” Zoro growled, the blond’s thigh’s thighs further apart and leaning in close.

Christian bit his lip before saying, “Are you going to let him fuck you or are you going to tease us both with the prospect all night?”

* * *

“So… they won’t unless you dress like a guy?”

Saul shook his head. “It’s not about dressing like a guy, it’s about walking, talking, acting, _thinking_ like a guy.”

“You are a guy.”

“Yes, but I don’t _think_ like a guy most of the time.”

Rubbing at his eyes, Sanji took another drink from the bottle. He couldn’t believe he was actually talking about this. He couldn’t believe he was talking about this in a male brothel—talking about it all alone upstairs with a male hooker, no less. Just yesterday this had been a never-going-to-happen-in-a-thousand-years kind of scenario. But, then again, a few weeks ago sharing a girl with Zoro had also been one of those never-gonna-happen kinds of things. Go figure.

“But, prostitutes are supposed to cater to people’s kinks though, right?” Sanji squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again. Was the room tilting a little? Just a little? “Couldn’t you work here and be the guy that does that kind of stuff?”

Saul’s cheeks were very red and his eyelids were heavy as he held out his cup for Sanji to refill. “It isn’t in high enough demand. Men come here to have sex with other _men_. They don’t come here looking for a woman.”

_“Men come here to have sex with other men…” “…Prostitutes are supposed to cater to people’s kinks though, right?”_ Why had that nagging feeling come back again? Christian was nowhere around now. 

“I’m looking for a woman, and I came here,” Sanji realized how drunk that sounded only after it had passed his lips, moving past the anxiety since his brain still wasn’t providing any answers..

“Why _did_ you come here?” Saul asked before he downed the contents of his cup.

“Uh…” Why _had_ he come here? “Because… Christian invited me to dinner?”

Saul laughed. “I’m sure Christian didn’t invite you here just for dinner. He’s not a single-layered person. There’s probably some other reason he had you come, you just haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Do I even want to figure it out?” Sanji half whined as he sloshed tequila around in a circle.

Saul took the bottle from him and refilled his cup. “I don’t know, do you?”

Sanji thought about it, and then he thought about it some more. “Yeah…” he said seriously. “I don’t like not knowing stuff.”

Saul blinked. His eyes were looking a little bleary. “You know, I bet you do know. You just don’t know… that you know… Did that make sense?”

Sanji nodded and took another swallow. “How long have we been up here?”

Pulling himself forward on the bed, Saul craned his neck to look at the clock on the wall behind the door. “Um… thirty minutes, give or take.”

“Okay.” Sanji poured half of what was left of the tequila down his throat, and then handed the bottle to Saul. “Finish that and then put your hair back up.”

“Eh?”

“We’re going back downstairs.” Standing was tricky, but Sanji figured out how to do it on the third try.

“We?” Saul’s voice was high.

“Yes,” Sanji held out his hand. “You’re gonna be my um… what should I call it? Date? Companion-type thing?”

Saul just sat staring at the offered hand. “I-I don’t understand.”

Sanji sighed. “If anyone calls you ‘the help’ again, I’m gonna kick his face in and I want you there to see it.”

Another long moment passed as confusion pulled at Saul’s features, but then the younger man smiled brilliantly and pulled his hair back into the tie. He took Sanji’s hand and stood. They walked—or rather wobbled—together to the door and shuffled down the hall.

“Gonna teach some of these prostitutes how to play cards,” Sanji chuckled. “Maybe by the end of the night I’ll have won some money and it’ll be like I got paid to come here.”

Saul laughed, but stopped as they came to the top of the stairs.

“Hey, Sanji…” he said, his voice softening.

“Hm?” Sanji asked as he started down the stairs. He pulled out a cigarette and lit up as he descended.

Saul was silent behind him, and when Sanji turned back to see what was the matter, he found the younger man still at the top step, leaning heavily against the railing.

“What is it?” he asked.

The brunette tilted his head, as if trying to regard Sanji in a different perspective would help him better understand an unvoiced question.

“Thank you…” he whispered finally.

Sanji exhaled slowly. “For what?”

Saul shook his head and shrugged his shoulders slowly. “Nothing… Everything. Just being you, I guess.”

Sanji stood silent, watching the man above look down at him with that unrestrained affection and admiration. For some reason, when Saul looked at him like that Sanji didn’t mind. It wasn’t like the looks the other men of the brothel threw at him. Saul’s feelings were real and stemmed from something deeper than a physical attraction. They had something in common, a respect for the thing they both loved, and dreams that were so similar it was frightening. 

Sanji held out his hand then. “Come on,” he coaxed, as gently as if he was speaking to a real lady. Saul flushed once again and took his hand. He let Sanji lead him down the stairs and made the softest of noises as Sanji slipped his fingers through his own, lacing their hands together. 

“Just stay by my side,” Sanji murmured. 

Damn, the tequila was doing wonders for his discomfiture.

* * *

_Fuck_ , Zoro thought to himself, because that was the only coherent thought he could form at the moment.

Every nerve in his body was fraying and in danger of completely unraveling, but hell if he was going to show it. Christian moaned loudly beneath him, adding to the sensory assault. The skin on his companion’s belly glistened with sweat and his first release, his hard cock thumped against Zoro’s stomach in anticipation of his second.

Heat came over him in waves - Roman’s body was like a furnace. He concentrated on breathing as Roman panted heavily into his ear, one of the other man’s hands gripping his hip tightly, the other plastered over Zoro’s pectorals in an oddly possessive gesture. For the first time that night, Zoro wondered briefly to himself which would come first - orgasm or black out. 

Christian’s whole body jerked suddenly and against their established rhythm, and he let out a choked cry as Zoro stroked him to completion.

Zoro’s own knees suddenly didn’t know what to do with themselves as he felt Christian tighten unbelievably around his own cock, but Roman seemed to have plenty of wits about him as he immediately took control. He pushed Zoro forward and quickly - lest Zoro suddenly have enough mental capacity to protest - rearranged himself between Zoro’s thighs, using his knees to spread the swordsman open. 

It was too much to ask though, even in their heightened state of passion. Zoro tried to shoot back up, but in an amazing show of team work, Christian threw his arms around Zoro’s neck and pulled him back down into a kiss, while Roman did a very brave, foolish and stupid thing that he knew he’d regret later. He grabbed one of Zoro’s wrists and pulled his arm around his back, taking advantage of his position to fuck him harder and faster.

* * *

“Are you serious!?” the little one named Yukie squeaked. “I am so jealous of this Robin girl!”

“I know,” the older one with the silver-streaked hair gestured with his sake cup, “Why can’t I have a crew of sexy men come and save me?”

The tall one with the long red hair and a surfeit of colorful tattoos snorted. “Because you’re old and grouchy, Wolf. Not to mention your looks pale in comparison to the infamous Nico Robin’s.”

Sanji blinked heavy eyelids as Wolf pouted and settled further into the cushions beside him. The cook took another long swallow from his glass and leaned in close to the dark-skinned man.

“Doesn’t mean you don’t have your own charms,” Sanji slurred. “I’m sure if I was gay, I’d think you have a handsome face.”

Wolf grinned at him. The man’s eyes were bleary with alcohol, but luckily for Sanji, the older man was one of those that got calmer and quieter as his intoxication became more severe.

“Sanji, if you were gay, I don’t think you’d be seeing much of my face.”

“Hmm,” Sanji snickered into his glass. “Don’t tease me. I’m sensitive under all this influence.”

The big redhead laughed. “And you weren’t before?”

“Shut it,” Sanji retorted. He was answered with a chorus of drunken giggles.

The noise in the room had lessened considerably as the hour had grown later. Several prostitutes had left to entertain patrons, and many had gone to bed. All that was left now was Sanji and six others. Wolf, little Yuki, the tall redhead that had a name that sounded like some kind of bird, the white-haired cook, Tristin, a quiet young man named Raven with silky black hair and a face so beautiful it was distracting, and of course, Saul. They sat together around the low table, drinking and listening to Sanji tell stories of his adventures with Strawhat Luffy and his crew.

“I think you should tell us again about how you and Zoro throttled this CP9 group,” Tristin said softly. He tongued the edge of his glass before he took a sip, eyeing Sanji intensely. 

Sanji chuckled, fully aware that the way Tristin was flirting with him would have been extremely uncomfortable, had he been sober. “It wasn’t just me and Zoro. Luffy took out their leader. Nami messed up one of them. Chopper, Franky… I’m sure even Usopp did something.” 

Tristin smiled and brought a cigarette to his mouth with long, slender fingers. “Well then tell us another story. I like hearing you talk.”

Sanji grinned and took a drag off his own cigarette. He had enough decency to feel just a little guilty at the fact that some of these prostitutes were getting farther with him than he would have ever thought possible only because they were so free with the compliments. 

“Don’t be pulling it out just yet, Tris,” the redhead slurred. “Looks like Sanji’s already got his companion for the night.”

Tristin’s eyes never left Sanji’s as he licked his lips. “It’s just not fair, Wren. If I’d known he was cool with bedding cooks, I’d have made a move earlier.”

Sanji flashed his teeth. “Put the beet syrup to good use.”

Tristin chuckled. “I’m sure we could have confiscated some shortening. Maybe some vegetable oil…” 

Raven smoothed out his smile with his fingertips. “I’m pretty sure that’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard.”

Wren gave him an incredulous look. “Really?”

“I had no idea you cooks were so nasty,” Wolf commented into his glass. “Vegetable oil? Really?”

Tristin shook his head and rolled his eyes. “No. That really would be disgusting.” 

Wren shifted his position so he was resting on his elbow. He tilted his head and gave Saul a slow once over before emptying his cup.

“Always thought he was pretty,” nodding at Saul. “He’d make a great companion if he wasn’t so fem.”

“Yukie’s fem,” Sanji frowned. 

Wren shook his head. “Different kind of fem.” 

Saul shifted at Sanji’s side. The Strawhat cook turned to look at the slight man curled up against his side. His long eyelashes fluttered as he slept, and his long fingers tangled themselves in the hem of Sanji’s shirt. Instinctively, Sanji put an arm around Saul’s shoulders and ran his fingers over the man’s light brown hair. 

“He’s too much like a girl…” Sanji murmured.

“Yup,” Wren smiled, “But we don’t hold that against him.”

“You’re sweet to bring him down here with you.” Yukie murmured sleepily. The small man was half laying on the table and had his chin resting on his folded arms.

Sanji shrugged. “We just had a connection.”

“That’s good,” Wren said. “That’s mostly what we offer. We have a lot more men come in here for companionship, someone to have dinner with or just talk to, rather than straight up sex.”

“Oh?” Sanji was genuinely surprised.

Wolf nodded. “It’s hard out there sometimes. You want to connect, or you want to just be with someone that makes you happy, but there’s a lot of social prejudice. I have twice as many clients that come in and just ask me to sit with them than I have that come for the full deal.”

Sanji was astonished. “So… you have men coming in here all the time, that pay an extraordinary amount of money just to sit and _talk_ with you?”

Yukie straightened. “It’s a few hours sitting in an intimate setting without judgment or harassment. It’s a chance for them to just relax and be themselves and not have to worry about a coworker or family member or something seeing them.”

“Straight men take for granted that they can flirt and be affectionate whenever they please.” Wren said softly. “Most gay men have to hide who they are all the time.”

Sanji looked down at Saul once again, his mouth dry and his lungs tightening painfully. An image of Zoro came into his mind unbidden. He thought about how the swordsman no doubt felt about constantly keeping a part of himself secret from his crew. It wasn’t fair, and the cook felt a little sick knowing that he was most likely the chief reason Zoro felt he needed to hide.

“I’m an asshole…” Sanji breathed softly.

Saul stirred. “Hm?”

Sanji ran his fingers through the smaller man’s hair again. “Nothing, Saul-swan. Go back to sleep.”

* * *

“You practically wrote him a formal letter asking for it you dumb son of a bitch, so I don’t want to hear it. You’re a prostitute, he’s a customer and you crossed the line!” Christian fumed, despite tenderly applying a cold compress to Roman’s rapidly swelling eye.

Roman had seen it coming a mile away, so he was neither surprised nor upset. In fact, it was the idiotic grin on his face that was pissing Christian off so much. As if somehow Roman had accomplished something worth being smug over aside from being totally out of line with his favorite patron of all time.

And if the quiet chuckle coming from the bed was any indication, Zoro didn’t seem too upset about it either. Christian had seen a lot of things in the course of his life, but watching a prostitute get taken out by a patron, then resuming sex for the next hour like nothing had happened, was a first. They only stopped because Zoro had finally sighed, muttered something about a “shiner” and suggested it was probably best to get something cold on the blossoming bruise.

“Probably shoulda waited longer to abandon that stupid cook though,” he almost sighed, moving his foot out of reach so Roman would stop running his fingers along it.

Christian and Roman both chuckled at the same time. “He’s fine, believe me,” Roman reassured him. “He struck up quite a little friendship with Saul, and Chris couldn’t have placed him in kinder, gentler or more respectful hands.”

* * *

The next morning, Sanji stared hard into his cup of coffee, his stomach squirming unpleasantly as he bolstered his guts. He’d only fallen asleep a few hours ago. They’d been up until 4 am, and he and Saul had passed out in one of the parlors, a bottle of wine dangling from Sanji’s hand and the boy’s head in the chef’s lap.

It’s funny how the mind has a way of organizing things in your sleep (and a drunken sleep at that). He’d dreamt that Christian was the chef on the Thousand Sunny, and Sanji was the prostitute. Zoro was his patron because of his resemblance to Christian, but it was Christian who his crewmate was in love with.

Instead of any other wild array of emotions the chef figured he would process upon waking from a dream like that, he only had that same goddamn feeling he’d been struggling with the night before. 

Then the fog of sleep and dream confusion cleared and all the lights in his head were suddenly on at once. The notion was as ridiculously obvious as it was incredibly farfetched; just what the hell made Sanji think that the resemblance between him and Christian _was_ just coincidence? 

What if it wasn’t?

He and Roman were alone in the kitchen, and there wouldn’t be a better time than this. It was just that his mind kept yelling at him that this was a stupid idea, his suspicion was even more so, and it was so bizarre to find himself ever asking this question.

He cleared his throat. “So.”

Roman looked up from the paper he was reading. “You wanna know about the black eye, right?”

Sanji had noticed that, but no. He really _didn’t_ want to know about Roman’s black eye. He knew with whom Roman had spent the night, and he didn’t need to add Roman’s black eye to the list of ponderings he had found himself with as of late.

Sanji cleared his throat again and shifted his stance.

“Not really, actually.”

Roman laughed. “You’re learning fast.”

Sanji chuckled softly, but his expression quickly turned serious. “There’s usually a rule about spilling other patron’s secrets, and I’m sure this place isn’t any different,” he began, “but I have to ask, and I need you to just...” the cook ground his teeth together, thinking that this was probably the most out of line he had ever been within a brothel.

“Just tell me the damned truth, okay?”

Roman didn’t respond, he just nodded his head and returned to his paper. Sanji took that as an invitation to continue.

“This isn’t a conclusion I normally- it’s not like I think that....” He sighed and set the coffee cup down. “I couldn’t... help but notice Christian.”

Roman snorted but didn’t look up from his paper. “A lot of men can’t help but notice Christian.”

Sanji rolled his eyes, exasperated with himself for walking into so many of these god damn double entendres. “No, not that. I mean that I can’t help but notice what Christian looks like.”

Roman snorted again. “Again, a lot of men-”

“Just like me, Roman. Christian looks _just fucking like me_. His hair, his god damn clothes, the way he carries himself - he’s a gay me!”

“And?”

Sanji held up his hands incredulously and waved them about. “C’mon Roman, what the hell am I supposed to think about that?”

Roman finally looked up and shook his head. “I don’t know? What _are_ you supposed to think about that? Does it offend you that there’s a gay prostitute out there who happens to be very genetically similar to you? What are you getting at?”

Sanji rested his elbows on the table and buried his head in his hands. In a muffled voice, he said, “What am I supposed to think about the fact that my best crew mate comes to a gay brothel and chooses the ONE guy who looks _just fucking like me_ to sleep with?”

When Sanji didn’t get a quick, lighthearted brush-off, he looked up and was surprised to see Roman staring at him intently. The companion opened his mouth to respond, when suddenly laughter broke out from behind them.

They both turned to see Christian bent over, laughing hard.

“Oh _god_ , straight men are so hilarious!”

Apparently Christian had been eavesdropping on their conversation, and as much as he was furious because Christian had done so, he was overwhelmed with embarrassment that the asshole had heard him in the first place.

“Fuck you,” he spat.

Christian straightened up, grinning. “Oh, don’t be mad. I’m not really laughing at you - well, yes, I am. But not in a mean way. ‘Sides, I can set your fears at ease. You’re really not Zoro’s type.”

Sanji could not help the fact that his expression went from one of anger to indignation at having been issued such a challenge. A challenge was a challenge, no matter what the situation. He was biologically programmed to respond in defiance when his ability to do _anything_ was called into question. So, to reiterate, Sanji could not help the fact that he was now indignant at having been told he was not ‘Zoro’s type’.

“What _exactly_ -”

And this was the point when Sanji’s brain caught up with his primitive nature. He _had_ been about to ask what exactly it was that Christian had that Sanji did not. But as previously stated, this was a part of the biological reaction at having been told he wasn’t good enough. He couldn’t help it. And that is what he told himself.

“Never mind. I gotta go. Thanks for... yeah.” He quickly dug the coin out of his pocket and tossed it to Christian. He nodded to Roman and left. He had intended to wait for Zoro, but there was no way in hell he was staying in that brothel one moment longer. He had to get out. He had to get away. He needed to run, to punch and kick some things, and he needed to smoke. A lot. By himself. Away from.... just away.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

In the evening, on the final day the Strawhats were scheduled to be docked at Moore Island, Sanji found himself smack in the middle of a minor crisis. 

He had been unloading the last of the kitchen supplies, carrying and stacking the crates in the supply room, when a sack of potatoes had broken open and several of the brown, dirt-covered spuds had come spilling out. There was really no reason for this event to impact Sanji so deeply, but as the lumpy shapes rolled across the floor at his feet, the cook felt as if he was falling as well. He felt so out of control so suddenly, he had to fight off an inexplicable urge to scream. He set the crate down with a loud _thump_ and moved to slam the door to the supply room shut.

Backing up in the darkness, the undersides of Sanji’s knees hit the stack of rice bags and he fell back clumsily to a seated position.

He thought about lighting up, but this was the one place on the ship he tried not to smoke. He didn’t want to contaminate the food or alter the taste. It was different then when he was cooking. The food was only exposed to it for a few minutes, but letting the smoke settle in the store room would be like marinating the supplies in burnt tobacco. 

Therefore, sans-cigarette, Sanji sat in the pitch blackness, chewing the inside of his lip, hating that he had these stupid feelings and these stupid doubts and these stupid, stupid _worries_.

On how many islands had they made port now? Thirty? Fifty? He’d lost count. And on how many of those islands had he passed the time, or alleviated stress, in the arms of a prostitute? How many hookers had he propositioned? How many hookers had propositioned him? How many brothels had he visited? Why was this happening now? Why was this suddenly a problem?

Sanji had always been conscious of the darker side of a prostitute’s profession. He understood the dangers of it, the shame, the disrespect to the job. Sanji knew all those things and instead of weighing it against them, he revered them for it. It took a certain amount of courage to maintain what those women did every day, a strength that Sanji was sure he did not have. Holding the female form in such high regard, Sanji always treated women tenderly, and he had made it a point to treat prostitutes even more carefully. They performed a service, at great cost to themselves. They gave up what was held sacred in many religions and used it to make a living, and—in some cases—to survive.

Sanji had never taken a prostitute to bed thinking she was any less than any normal woman. He accepted service, and paid what was owed. He had never tried to cheat a prostitute out if anything and he liked to think that he never just took. He took, obviously, but he always tried to give just as much—if not more.

The male brothel had altered his perception of everything he had ever thought he had known. Seeing men do the exact thing that women did, putting themselves in the same situations… The whole thing had shaken Sanji to his core.

What those men probably had to go through to get where they were, Sanji could only imagine. Some of those prostitutes considered themselves lucky to be working in the brothel! How skewed of a perception was that, really? They were _lucky_ to be working in a brothel? _What the hell!?_

Sanji put his palms to his temples and rubbed slow circles. His head hurt like he’d been hit with a train. He wanted nothing more than to go back to the brothel and tear the place down piece by piece. But what would that do? Nothing. The only thing that would accomplish would be destroying the one place those people were kept safe.

Sanji rubbed his forehead. His fingers dug into his flesh, kneading too hard to be trying to alleviate any real pain. Maybe he was trying to create more? Maybe his head didn’t hurt enough…

_You can’t save them, Sanji. Some of them don’t want to be saved… can’t be saved…_

Fuck.

And then there was Saul. Sanji saw so much of himself in the small, frail, hopeful cook that it made his heart ache. Saul really was what he himself could have been if it hadn’t been for a shitty old man, and a shitty island, and a goddamn, fucking, shitty dream he would never get out of his head. 

Saul had the dream, he just didn’t have anyone to…

Suddenly, slammed with an inspiration, Sanji leapt to his feet. He burst out of the supply room, and flew through the kitchen. He threw open the cupboards above the stove and grabbed a set of keys he kept hidden beneath some cookbooks. The keys opened a cabinet below where he kept his personals. Once it was open, Sanji dove inside, searching. 

A few minutes later, he pulled himself out of the cabinet and dusted himself off. He had found what he was looking for. He dropped the pile of black nylon on the counter, and turned to the sink for some hot water and a cloth. He toed open the drawer that held his knives, and grabbed a sharpening stone from one of the shelves.

Satisfied that he had everything he needed, he sat down at the table and got to work.

* * *

Clusterfuck. You put too many people under some sort of transformational or pressurized situation, and you get a clusterfuck. Ussop felt like the Strawhats had clustered quite a few fucks in their time, but they’d always been in it together. Managed to get through because, deep down, they were in this together and cared for each other. But if the participation was limited to two of the strongest members of the crew with the most beef with each other, two people that didn’t like each other enough, and the dynamics became less stable, the outcome less sure.

He’d been keeping a close eye on those two. Things were in constant transition with the Strawhats, so whatever was going on between Sanji and Zoro could have easily gone unnoticed. He’d come to understand too many details to want to share it with anyone else, or even dwell on it too much himself. He knew it involved lots of sex and prostitutes, but beyond that, he only had a hazy notion of what was going on. He had ideas, oh yes, he had ideas. But he’d die a thousand deaths before he uttered any of that out loud without some sort of confirmation first.

He watched Sanji rush out of the kitchen and holler that he’d be back soon before taking off into the town. It took only a second for the hairs on the back of Ussop’s neck to prickle. He didn’t need to turn around to know Zoro must have heard that. And very shortly afterwards, Zoro emerged from the crow’s nest, looking very intently in the direction Sanji’s went. Instead of following, however, Zoro returned to the crow’s nest, probably to resume training.

Ussop sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. This was taking its sweet time to resolve itself.

* * *

Sanji pounded on the door, his heart hammering against his rib cage. He had run all the way here, nearly missing the street. The place was actually a lot harder to get to than he remembered.

The small slit opened for him to slide the membership coin through and Sanji cursed inwardly. He didn’t have a coin this time.

“I don’t have a membership, man. My name’s Sanji, I was here a few days ago with my crewmate, Zoro.”

The slide slapped shut in his face. Sanji bristled. He hadn’t taken this into account when he had made his hasty plans. He pounded on the door again.

“Oi! Asshole! I just need five minutes! My ship’s taking off in like an hour, and I need to talk to one of your staff!”

The slide opened and a deep voice rumbled from inside. “No admittance without a membership, or invitation.”

Sanji ground his teeth together. “Listen. Breaking down this door would be the easiest fucking thing in the world for me. But you guys have been very hospitable so I don’t want to do that.”

The eyes that peered out at Sanji narrowed in suspicion. 

“Look,” Sanji sighed. “Just get Christian. He’ll vouch for me.”

“And if I can’t find Christian?”

“Then get Roman!” Sanji roared. “Or Wolf! Or the tall dude with the tats and red hair! Just GO!”

The slit slapped shut again, and Sanji whirled on his heel with an angry huff. He leaned against the door, giving the passersby a look that clearly meant “mind your own damn business”. He lit a cigarette to give his hands something to do. He waited for perhaps a minute and a half before he heard the distinct sound of arguing. He pushed off the door and turned back around, his excitement mounting.

“…what I’m saying! And no! You don’t just turn someone away who knows people inside by name! What are you, a fucking idiot?”

Sanji smirked. It was Christian.

The door opened and Christian leaned against the heavy wood. He was wearing nothing but a floral patterned robe, and his hair was wet.

“Hi Sanji.” His smile was impish.

“Wow,” Sanji slouched lazily, pulling smoke into his lungs, “he got you out of the shower for me?”

Christian rolled his eyes. “No, Yuki got me out of the shower. He saw you from the window.”

Sanji looked up, seeing several familiar faces smiling down at him. They waved. He rolled his eyes and waved back.

He turned back to the blond in front of him. “I need to see Saul.”

Christian’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh really?”

Sanji made a face. “Don’t give me shit. I’m not in the mood for games right now. Can I just come in please? I have something for him.”

“Damn, not even a companion and he’s getting gifts.” Christian stepped forward, taking the cigarette from Sanji’s fingers. “He must have treated you real good.”

Sanji growled. 

Christian smiled. He puffed on the cigarette slowly, turning his head but not his eyes to exhale. “What do I get for letting you in?”

Sanji fixed the other blond with a hard stare. He raised his hand, plucked the last of the cigarette from the prostitute’s fingers, and placed it back in his mouth. He sucked the last of the smoke through the filter and tossed the butt on the ground. Christian didn’t have time to say anything before Sanji put a hand on his chest and pushed him back against the wall. The cook slid that hand up Christian’s collar, over his neck, and back around to tangle his fingers in his hair. Christian gasped and went a limp as Sanji pulled hard, tilting the thinner man’s head back.

Ghosting his lips over Christian’s jaw, Sanji breathed against his damp skin. “Just be happy that I won’t kick your ass.”

He was lying of course, completely and totally full of it. He couldn’t be serious about something like that, not after all his musings not a half hour ago. Christian didn’t seem to care one way or the other, however, and made a low noise in the back of his throat before he murmured, “Okay, fine…” When Sanji pulled away, the prostitute opened his eyes slowly and took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Shit… no wonder…” he straightened, but still leaned against the wall. “You’re sexy as hell, Sanji. After you’re done talking to Saul, you want me to suck your dick? Free of charge.”

Sanji shook his head. “No thanks. Just tell me where Saul is.”

Christian sighed and motioned with his head. “He’s working on one of the sinks in the kitchen.”

Sanji turned and stepped through the door. He smiled condescendingly at the wide-eyed door guard, and moved through the foyer.

“Are you sure you don’t want a quickie before you go?” Christian called after him. “It’d be awesome. Like having sex with _yourself_.”

“Not interested.” Sanji replied, and turned down the hall. 

The cook remembered this place well enough, but he wasn’t completely confident about the exact turns he needed to take to get to the kitchen. Fortunately he found the gardens and he knew the way from there.

When he opened the swinging doors, he came face to face with a scene that both excited and pleased him.

The smells of simmering meats and sautéing vegetables hit him as he watched the cooks working around each other in practiced clockwork. It was all the same people: Link stood stirring something in a large pot, the twins were tasting something from a pan and speaking adamantly amongst themselves.

Tristin saw him first.

“Sanji!”

It was chaos for a few minutes. Miles and the cooks surrounded Sanji, greeting him happily, teasing, asking him if he was going to stay for dinner.

“I’d love to,” Sanji smiled, “I really would, but I’m actually here to talk to Saul.”

Several eyes opened wide and Tristin clicked his tongue. “Really?” the white-haired cook grinned slyly. It was so reminiscent of Christian that Sanji almost laughed out loud.

“Hey, Saul!” Link barked. “Where’d you go?”

Saul’s soft voice came from behind a dish rack. “I’m… here.”

The cooks chuckled and Sanji moved through the kitchen. He found Saul standing behind the rack, holding a bag of tools to his chest like a lifeline. 

Saul’s hair was mostly covered by a wrap, but a few soft tresses had escaped and spilled gently over the line of his shoulders. He wore a pair of dark woman’s jeans, and light blue t-shirt. He looked so much like a girl it was mindboggling. 

Sanji leaned against a prep table, slipping his free hand into his pocket. The package he carried was tucked underneath his arm and it didn’t hinder his movements when he pulled a smoke from his pack and placed it unlit between his lips.

Saul stood shocked, frightened. “What are… what are you doing here?”

The man’s face still had remnants of the makeup from the night before. Smokey greys and silvers rimmed those deep brown eyes. Mascara thickened those long eyelashes.

Sanji moved the cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other. “Should I not be here?”

Saul opened his mouth and then closed it. His eyes were still frightened.

“It’s okay…” Sanji said softly.

Saul looked at him then. He swallowed. “I… I can’t think of any reason why you would be here… that isn’t bad.”

Sanji smiled at that. “Don’t be silly, I have something for you.”

A chorus of gasps and muffled giggles rang through the kitchen.

Saul’s shock tripled. “What!?” he cried. “For... for… w-why?”

“Holy shit, Saul!” one of the twins called, “You are _so_ spilling everything after he leaves!”

“We need details!” Link laughed.

Sanji rolled his eyes and watched the blush spread across Saul’s face. The look was very endearing, and revived that sense of power Sanji had felt before.

“Come on, Princess!” Tristin said excitedly, “let’s see what he got you!”

Saul opened his mouth and closed it again. Apparently, he had forgotten how to speak.

Miles came to the rescue. “Saul, why don’t you take Sanji to one of the private rooms down the hall? You can open your gift there and none of these guys will bother you.”

Saul looked at Miles. “But, I haven’t finished the sink yet.”

“Holy fucking mother of GOD!” The twins shouted at the same time. “Just go! You’re killing us!” 

Saul thanked Miles and led Sanji out of the kitchen. The blond turned and waved to the other cooks before he slipped through the door and followed the smaller man down the hall. Saul pulled the wrap from his head, and mutely led Sanji to a dimly lit room set up like a small lounge. A few lavish couches, a desk, and a polished coffee table filled the small space. A few rows of low book cases leaned against the wall, and fresh flowers sat in vases around the room. Once inside, Saul closed the door and ran his hands nervously over his hair.

Sanji laid the package on the desk and pulled a small envelope from beneath the string. He turned around, and held the envelope out to Saul.

“Okay, I lied,” Sanji started, “I got you two things.”

Saul’s eyes widened again but he took the envelope from Sanji’s hand. “What is this?”

Sanji felt his stomach start tying into knots. His heartbeat stayed steady and slow, but he could feel it slamming against his ribcage.

“That… is a letter from me. It’s like a, uh…” he rubbed at the back of his neck. “It’s like a letter of recommendation.”

Saul froze. “E… exc… w-what?” his voice was so soft.

“It’s just a letter from me saying that I’ve tasted your cooking, and that I think you’re really talented, and that it would be stupid not to hire you. Even without the formal training.” Sanji’s lips itched for that cigarette he had just put away. “Of course it says all that in a much more formal, professional way, but that’s what it says.”

Saul’s eyes were huge, his pretty face an almost comical display of complete and utter shock. He gripped the envelope in his fingers like it was the most important thing on earth.

Sanji cleared his throat. Why was his mouth suddenly so dry? “Obviously you should start here, work with Miles and train with some people that already know you, and like you. But then after you’ve got some experience under your belt, go out and get yourself a job at some fancy place. Blow ‘em away with your creativity.”

Saul looked down at the letter, then back up at Sanji, and then back down at the letter again. He covered his mouth with his hand, and pressed the envelope to his chest. Tears spilled from his eyes and over his fingers. Sanji’s heart started pounding faster.

“It’s not…” Sanji almost tripped over his words. “You don’t have to cry, it’s not that… it’s not worth getting hysterical over.”

“Yes it is…” Saul sniffed, trying to calm down.

Sanji tore his eyes away from the man who was so pretty it was distracting. He placed a hand on the package and swallowed.

“This uh… this is what I was talking about. I um…” Sanji finally gave in and slipped a hand in his pocket for his cigarettes.

“Just open it.”

He backed away and lit up. Saul moved forward, setting the letter down carefully on the desk. He moved to untie the string holding the paper. When he pulled it loose and peeled the paper away, he made a small noise in the back of his throat. He stood frozen, staring down at his gift, his breathing heavy and punctuated.

Sanji blew out a thin stream of smoke and moved to stand beside him. He reached out a hand and unrolled the knife kit. Inside were six knives. They were all backups, but still in excellent condition. Sanji had been collecting for several years and had many copies of the same ones back on the ship. He would not miss them.

To Saul, however, a person with little money and no connections, it was as if Sanji had just given him the moon. Knives like these would have been absolutely impossible for Saul to buy himself.

“You should only have to sharpen them every six months. It depends on what you cut, and how often. There’s a stone in the pocket right there, and oil in this one right here if you have to store them.”

Saul was shaking, tears streaming down his face. He ran his fingers over the handle of the chef’s knife, trailed his thumb over the stitching of the nylon kit. He inhaled sharply and turned to face Sanji directly. His body was so close, but his watery eyes stared at Sanji’s chest.

“Why are you doing this for me?” he whispered. 

Sanji snuffed out his cigarette and slipped it into his pocket. He pushed a lock of hair out of Saul’s face and tucked it behind his ear.

“I want to see you succeed,” he said softly. “You have potential that I can’t let go to waste. I couldn’t leave this island knowing that I could have helped you, like the shitty old man helped me… and didn’t. I couldn’t live with that.”

Saul’s lip trembled, and his eyes slowly slid up to meet Sanji’s. He sniffed and reached out a hand to Sanji’s jaw. Sanji didn’t move away. He didn’t flinch. He just watched those brown eyes as the younger man touched him. 

“I have no way to thank you…”

Sanji shook his head. “You already have. You’ve taught me a lot.”

Saul brought his other hand to Sanji’s jaw. He cupped the taller man’s face in his palms, his gentle touch sending pleasant shivers up and down Sanji’s spine.

“If I had anything to give you, I would.” Saul’s voice was so soft, it was barely a whisper. “Anything you wanted…”

Sanji let his hands move to Saul’s slender hips. They seemed to want to be there.

Saul searched Sanji’s face, desperately looking for something. Tears pooled and fell from his eyes again. His body trembled. 

“Do I have anything you want, Sanji?”

Sanji knew that he did. Saul had many things that Sanji wanted. He was just too much of a coward to admit it out loud. He wasn’t ready to take that step. He wasn’t ready to let himself go.

“Sanji…” The desperation in Saul’s voice broke Sanji’s heart.

_Fuck it, who’s gonna know?_

Sanji leaned in and pressed his mouth to Saul’s. The smaller man inhaled sharply, immediately wrapping his arms around Sanji’s neck. Saul clung desperately, opened for him so sweetly. He moaned as Sanji slid his tongue past his lips, arched as Sanji pulled his body in closer.

It was just like kissing a girl, Sanji wasn’t going to lie to himself. And the fact that Saul was a man, a man that was submitting himself so easily and so freely to Sanji’s will, sent the cook on a crushing power trip. Fuck what people thought, fuck the social stigmas, fuck Zoro, fuck the brothel, fuck _everything_. He wanted Saul. He wanted this _man_. It was crazy, it made no sense, but it was just how it fucking was. 

Sanji admitted to himself that he had been attracted to Saul since Christian had brought him to the tiny room upstairs days ago. Sanji had been pulled in by that sweetness and that innocence Saul had seemed to retain even after everything he had to go through. Sanji had been charmed by Saul’s obvious attraction to him; his unrestrained admiration. 

Sanji broke the kiss and backed Saul into one of the low shelves. They slammed into the wood together, jarring books and sending a few toppling to the floor. Saul panted heavily against Sanji’s mouth, his dark eyes clouded with arousal. Sanji felt that tremble of power, that primal sense of dominance flow through him as he lifted the smaller man to sit on the shelf. He pushed in between Saul’s thighs and brought his lips to Saul’s neck. He laid open-mouth kisses along a pulse that was threading almost too fast. He moved his hands, sliding them up a skinny, yet toned stomach. He spread his palms over a flat chest, unfamiliar territory, but Sanji found out quickly that men and women reacted pretty much the same when their nipples were teased. 

He felt hands at his belt and shifted his stance to accommodate. Saul undid his pants and slipped his hand inside so fast that Sanji was struck momentarily dumbfounded. He let out a harsh breath at the first perfect stroke on his cock. He growled deep in his throat and dove into Saul’s mouth as the smaller man started to pump him with quick, precise movements. 

He was so engrossed in the feel of a man’s knowing hands on him and the unmistakable scratch of stubble, however faint, on Saul’s slender neck, that it took Sanji a minute to realize that Saul was using his other hand to jerk himself off too. As good as the hand on him felt, Sanji was still intrigued, and looked down to watch as the prostitute’s fists moved over both their erections. This was something Sanji had never experienced before. Yes, he had shared women with Zoro a few times, and parts of the swordsman had been perilously close to certain parts of Sanji, but it had never been like this. Saul’s cock was long and lean, just like his body. The skin of his head was flushed pink, the same shade as Sanji’s. Besides the slight size difference, the two erections were almost identical. It wasn’t so bad. 

Placing his hands on the wall on either side of Saul’s shoulders, Sanji braced himself. Saul’s hands seemed to know just how to pull, just how hard to squeeze. Sanji breathed deep, grinding his hips forward. The edges of the book case scraped against the floor, rattled against the wall. Saul gasped and slid down farther, bring their bodies closer. His legs wrapped around Sanji’s thighs, his hands started shifting, reaching, sliding around both—oh… _oh… OH…_

This… this was also new. This was very good. _Mind-blowingly_ good. Saul’s hands had wrapped around both of their lengths and he was now stroking them together. The feel of another cock against his was strange to Sanji, but oh god _oh god_ it was good! He watched Saul’s hands, watched two cockheads instead of one be jerked and pumped and beaten mercilessly against each other and he moaned. A rich sound from deep inside himself, a guttural, instinctual growl that had Saul’s legs trembling, his head falling back.

“Do you like this?” Saul panted.

Sanji looked up and met his half-lidded eyes. “Yeah… yeah I do…”

He wasn’t sure if it was the way Saul was looking at him then, or if it was just something that his body needed to do, but Sanji’s hand left the wall and slid over Saul’s. He slowed the frantic movements and slipped his fingers underneath the thinner man’s.

“Oh-” Saul choked, “Oh, wait… wait I can’t…”

“What?” Sanji grinned. “You can’t handle it if I touch you?”

Saul gripped the edges of the shelf. His eyes squeezed shut as Sanji started to pump them both together, mimicking the way Saul had been doing it moments ago. 

“Y-yes,” Saul cried. His head slammed against the wall as he arched. “ _Yes!_ ”

Sanji’s ego knew no bounds. 

Repositioning his fingers, Sanji started to get the feel of it. Sanji’s hands were bigger; they were stronger. He was able to get their lengths in a better grip and jerk them together at a steadier, more powerful pace. Saul started to keen, almost wail in a sexy tenor that had tremors shooting through Sanji’s body. He felt the tension coiling in his loins. He felt the first pulses of Saul’s orgasm, that last bit of tension rip through his body before he stilled and came. He spurted in thin streams over his shirt, some hitting his chest and even his neck. He gasped frantically for air, clung to the shelf, squeezed Sanji’s thighs with his legs.

“Oh god… oh my god…”

It was powerful, so fucking powerful. Sanji felt drunk. He felt like a god. He felt himself coming. He leaned in, pumping furiously, panting into Saul’s ear, running his lips down the other man’s jaw. Tension released, pleasure exploded. Sanji grunted once and let out a sharp breath. He pulsed in his hand, spurting semen over Saul’s stomach. His anxiety left him, replaced with a bone weariness and easy contentment. 

Saul kissed his neck, trailed his lips up Sanji’s jaw to his cheeks, his forehead. He pulled off his shirt and cleaned them both. Sanji tucked himself back in, settling his hands on the self’s top on either side of Saul’s hips. He kissed the smaller man slowly, savoring his sweet taste and his soft lips. He felt Saul’s fingers on his cheeks. They were no longer trembling.

When Sanji’s pulled away, he did it gently. “I have to go now,” he murmured..

Saul nodded and smiled tiredly. “Will I ever see you again?”

Sanji shrugged. “I wouldn’t doubt it.”

Saul brushed blond bangs from Sanji’s eyes.

Sanji shivered. “Stop selling yourself, okay? Do that for me.”

Saul’s eyes filled again, but he nodded and he smiled. “I promise.”

Sanji kissed him once more before he turned and moved across the room to open the door. Saul’s voice stopped him as he opened it, and he turned back around.

“Sanji?”

“Mm?”

Saul’s eyes were sill watery, but his face and his body were playful. He tilted his head to the side and smiled sweetly.

“Don’t forget me.”

Sanji grinned. “I couldn’t. You never forget your first.”

He left.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Sanji thanked all of the gods, the fish in the sea, and every beautiful woman in the world that he’d been the one to catch the messenger gull. Zoro would have tortured him to no end had he seen the obnoxiously formal letter and the contents of the small package that arrived with it. 

The bird had shown up one week after they had left—what Sanji liked to call in the privacy of his own mind—The Man-Brothel Island. It was never going to be anything else. It was the island where Sanji had gone to his first male brothel, the place where he had gotten drunk and flirted—yes, flirted—with male prostitutes, and where he had most definitely crossed over from completely straight and into bi-curious territory. 

He shivered slightly.

Leaning against the inside of the galley door, the cook opened the envelope with hands that were just short of steady and unfolded the parchment.

_My Dearest Sir,_

_Greetings from myself and all the brothers of our establishment—_ it began in fancy handwriting.

Sanji quickly looked to the bottom of the letter and saw the Christian’s name signed, much to his disappointment. He had expected, _hoped_ for a letter from Saul.

_It has only been a few days since your and Zoro’s departure, but for many of us here, it has already become lonely and bereft without you._

Sanji snorted and read on.

_I trust and hope this letter finds you well. I am writing at the request of a certain friend of yours, whose intimate acquaintance you gained upon your visit._

Sanji sighed, resigned. Saul hadn’t broken Sanji’s trust, he knew that for sure. Christian was just a slightly omniscient _dick_ who probably—definitely—saw through Sanji’s bullshit.

_Unfortunately, the scope of his greeting is quite long winded, so I shall summarize in brief that he is grateful, and he wishes to return your kindness._

_Please find a tool enclosed in the package that was hopefully delivered to you alongside this letter. As a chef who no doubt is required to be thoughtful with the utensils he is presented, I have no doubt that you shall find just the right use for this object._

_Do pass on mine and Roman’s regards to Mr. Roronoa. Let him know that Roman’s bruise has healed quite nicely, though his gait has not yet returned to normal._

_Lastly, it is the express wish of all employed at this establishment that you and your companion will honor us with your presence again someday._

_With affection,_

_Christian_

The chef’s throat tightened unpleasantly as he read the last line over again. “... _you and your companion_...”

Sanji could have been dignified about opening the small bundle, but since he had no idea what it could be—why would Saul give _him_ a tool?—he fumbled with the wrapping and dropped it once before he managed to get it open.

When he did, he suddenly felt very exposed. Glinting up at him from his palm was a coin. One side was recognizable, the other imprinted with an image that must have been representative of the island. Frankly, the print was too blurry for him to really understand what he was looking at, but he really didn’t care.

Sanji didn’t know what to think. Not wanting to risk Zoro finding the letter and discovering he had a coin, he almost wanted to burn it, and toss the coin overboard. But even though the letter had been written by Christian, the coin had been sent to him by Saul. He couldn’t just throw it away.

So he settled for stashing both in the most secure place he could think of: on the very top shelf, hidden behind a box of turnips in the cold store stuck inside a can labeled ‘meat product’. They kept a chain on that door to keep Luffy out. Zoro would never have any reason for going in there, since the booze was stored elsewhere. There was no safe place on the Thousand Sunny, but it was less likely to be discovered there than in the bunk.

* * *

The last two weeks had been fairly distracting, which Zoro was grateful for. A hurricane, two marine incidents and the chase to find the Abominable Unicorn Ghost before Usopp lost his toes forever. That had been truly fucked up.

“Unicorn” _sounds_ all butterflies and rainbows, but Luffy conveniently ignored the “Abominable” and “Ghost” part.

_Just busy enough_ , he’d thought, over and over again, until it turned into a mantra. He and Sanji were overdue in giving their time and attention to their crewmates and making sure those relationships were fostered, tended, poked, terrorized and otherwise seen to. They really hadn’t been able to... what? Spend time together?

They were three to four days out from any land, and if Zoro was being completely honest, he was praying—no, he didn’t pray— _insisting_ on more distractions. The swordsman didn’t need Sanji suddenly getting introspective about anything that had happened with Christian and the boys. So far the chef hadn’t said anything or acted any differently, so Zoro let himself breathe that much easier for the moment.

Fuck, they needed some women. Just... clean the slate so that he knew Sanji was focusing on women, so that Sanji would know _he_ was focusing on women, or more importantly, _not_ on men that looked like Sanji, or Sanji himself. Zoro apparently didn’t need Sanji comfortable or curious about that part of himself.

He kicked himself for being naive enough to think that letting Sanji walk into that part of his life wasn’t potentially going to raise questions. Or put big, neon signs all over the place that just begged for the perverted chef to pay attention to them.

Franky strummed his guitar and Zoro floated on the sound. It was a balm that soothed his anxiety, alongside the perfect beauty of the afternoon. The sun shining down on him as he dozed helped the feeling of sedation, along with the several bottles of rum that sat empty next to the two of them.

“Hey, Zoro...”

Franky’s gravelly and strangely pitched voice somehow didn’t interrupt the strumming of the instrument.

“Hm,” was all the response Zoro could muster in the delicious haze.

“You’ve been hiding things.” The strumming picked up a frantic pace for a moment before abruptly pausing. “Hiding yourself. Hiding your... _passion_!” The Robo-Man whispered emphatically before resuming the chaotic noise.

Zoro’s pulse quickened, but he remained objective. Sitting next to him was, for most intents and purposes, a Robot... man. In a thong. He could be talking about anything. Or—as Zoro judged most conversations—nothing at all.

He grunted.

Franky began plucking out a high pitched melody. “When were you going to tell us that you and Cook-bro are in the manliest of relationships? The pinnacle endeavor that only the heartiest—”

Zoro lurched up into a sitting position, sending grass wafting a few inches into the air before settling back down. His jaw was clenched tight, narrowed eyes steeling for a fight.

Frankly rocked back, exclaiming, “Whoa, bro, you’ve got me all wrong!” He changed the tune again, slowly strumming a gentle sound. “I just saw some things on the last island that, ya know, rocked my world, ow!!!” He laughed, but the sound faded as Zoro didn’t move. Not an inch.

“ _What_ did you see?” the green-haired man seethed.

Franky frowned and set the guitar down. He took a good look around to make sure no one had noticed their conversation. The engineer leaned in, lowered his sunglasses a little and gave Zoro a stern look.

“ _Who_ are you talking to like that, brother?”

Zoro seemed to falter for a moment, but the only visible signs were a waiver in the thin line that had become his lips, and a twitch of his left eyebrow. Then he exhaled sharply through his nose and relaxed his posture.

“What did you see, Franky?” he pressed, sounding resigned.

“Well, I saw you go to a manly brothel. I saw Sanji get invited to a manly brothel by a... handsome young man, and the two of you coming and going at unusual hours.”

Zoro directed his gaze to the ocean and squeezed his eyes shut for a few moments before exhaling again, centering himself.

What the fuck did he do now? Lie? That idiot chef could not find out about this. If Franky suspected, who else knew? Sanji would blame Zoro without a doubt, and by “blame” he meant “brutally murder”.

Neither of them was going to get away with murder on this ship, so killing Sanji before the chef killed him was not an option. And since Franky was just as much super mutant as anyone else on the crew, threats against the large bionic man weren’t a viable solution either.

“We aren’t... together,” Zoro finally muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “And he’ll kill himself or me or you if he finds out that anyone—” he turned and fixed his gaze on the robot again, “ _anyone_ thinks he’s gay. Because he’s not. I am, sort’ve, he’s not. You don’t understand what you saw, and I’m not going to explain it to you. Sanji is _not gay_ , do you understand?”

Franky stared for a moment, then blinked. Zoro watched as the Robot-Man reached his robot-hand towards his robot-face. He paused briefly, then a small click alerted Zoro to the opening that appeared where a smaller robotic hand came out. This mini-robot-hand then reached up to push Franky’s sunglasses up his metal nose.

“I see... or not.” He resumed strumming his guitar, but the effort was a little more absent-minded. “I do want to know why Cook-bro would go to a gay bar if he wasn’t riding the gay-wave.”

Zoro ignored him and began looking around for another source of alcohol. Franky noticed, and produced some pinched-earlier-that-day rum from a storage space in his thigh.

Franky raised an eyebrow and dangled the bottle above them both. “Open your tortured soul to Big Brother Franky, bro.”

“I just said I wasn’t going to explain,” the green haired man muttered, but it was half-hearted. Zoro sighed and snatched the rum Franky dropped into his lap. He took a good swig before he explained the sordid tale. He didn’t admit to his stupid addiction to the cook.

That’s how he was starting to look at it recently, anyway: a highly destructive illness that could wipe out everything in one unguarded second of stupidity.

No more talking about it, no more male brothels, and sure as hell no more men.

“So Cook-bro wanted to show his suuuuuper masculine support by accepting the invitation to dinner,” Franky said somewhat sarcastically, to the swordsman’s surprise.

“Whatever. Morbid curiosity, support, who cares.”

Franky made a motion for Zoro to pass him the liquor. He nursed it eagerly and pulled back with a loud smack. “Aaaaah. Brhaaaaaa! Sheesh... yow... So, that look-alike—”

“Leave it. You know all you need to know. Who else have you been talking to about this?”

Franky made a mocking face and muttered at the swordsman before handing the bottle back. “No one, but…” he hesitated, “I don’t know, really. Robin has been watching you two, and you know what that probably means.”

Zoro’s grunted. “She’s not dumb enough to confront him about it. But you’re close to the woman, make sure she knows he’s not gay.”

“Oi, don’t call her ‘the woman’, brother. It’s not manly.”

Zoro smirked briefly. “Right. Please tell _Robin_ how it is.”

Frankly frowned but nodded. “I’m your ultra-strong shoulder to cry on, brother,” he said solemnly.

Zoro grimaced and took another drink.

* * *

A nail dug into Sanji’s back as he leaned against the wall of the boy’s bunk. He panted into the silence. With his hand wrapped around his cock, he called up each image vividly for the umpteeth time. Haunted, was a good word for his emotional and sexual state. And, if that wasn’t enough, he was starting to lose his goddamn mind. One moment he’d be fantasizing that his hand was wrapped in soft strands of sandy hair, the next struggling to grip to much shorter, stupid, mossy, seaweed-colored hair. Grip it and possibly pull it down, shove it, fucking _yank_ that shit harder and harder—

God damnit. _God fucking damnit!_

Sanji arched his back and clenched his jaw. The fantasy got more graphic as he rode the high of his climax, his hand working quickly and the rest of his body clenched in ecstasy as fantasy-Zoro choked and tried to swallow. Sanji imagined a tanned jaw flexing like it did around the hilt of that white sword and he groaned softly. In his head he commanded his imaginary-Zoro to run his tongue over him as he came down. 

Finally, gasping for air, Sanji relaxed, his back hitting the wall painfully. His breath hitched repeatedly for several moments, ears ringing loudly as the rush of nerves from the top of his crown to the tips of his toes receded in waves.

Shit. He really liked Zoro on his knees. He really, _really_ liked seeing Zoro on his knees...

Spent, he pushed himself off the wall and immediately fell back, blood rushing to his head. The chef took a few more deep breaths and tried again.

Slowly, he straightened his pants and tucked his shirt back in. This was just fucking ridiculous. Of _course_ he wasn’t going to stop this and of _course_ it was only getting fucking worse, particularly since he received the package. To put it bluntly, he’d never come so hard before Saul fucking cracked his world open and scrambled everything inside with his gorgeous mouth—

Shit, and not to mention the fact that it was near impossible to look Zoro in the face anymore. Whenever he did, all he could picture was the way the swordsman had looked when Roman had his hands all over him. Shit, Zoro was sexy when he was being submissive. Sanji knew he could make Zoro look like that, and more. He could rock Zoro’s world! He could do stuff for Zoro that Roman could only _dream_ about! Sex was Roman’s job, but you know what? Fuck him. Sanji was _naturally_ good at it. If he seriously put his mind to it? Hell. If he ever got the chance with Zoro, all it would take would be one time and Zoro would never want to go back to a brothel— _any_ fucking brothel—ever again.

Sanji growled in exasperation at himself and did a few little hops in place to shake everything loose again.

Whatever, who was he kidding anyway? He might be curious about sex with a man... okay, mostly just with Zoro, but that didn’t mean the whole concept still didn’t freak him out a little. Truth be told, if he ever really did get the chance, with any guy, he wouldn’t really know what to do.

Okay, he’d have an _idea_ but not... Details you know? Details.

He straightened his tie and ran his hands over his shirt, smoothing wrinkles. The sudden but increasing cameos from his crewmate had been disturbing and fucking sexier than he could wrap his mind around. And he _couldn’t_ wrap his mind around it. He did not understand _any_ of this.

It was like the man he knew—the _straight_ man—was inhabiting half of his body, literally one half, split vertically straight down the middle. Then there was this interloper, this loud, obnoxious, insistent and _enthusiastic_ mother fucker living in the other half. And fuck it all, his straight side wasn’t even offended by this freak!

He’d had any number of wild ideas—ideas that were ludicrous, but started to seem more reasonable the more desperate he got. But then something would bring Sanji back to reality. The reality where it was a very bad idea to make assumptions as brass as the ones he was making; the reality that could be shattered by just one careless move. The crew, their dreams, came first.

Opening the door to the cabin, Sanji stepped out into the sunlight. He blinked a few times and raised a hand to shield his eyes. The crew were all pretty much where he had left them: sprawled on the grass or sunning on the deck. He didn’t see Zoro anywhere, but that was a good thing. Sanji didn’t want to see him anyway. Nope.

From the deck, Luffy and Chopper waved to him and the cook nodded a greeting as he lit a cigarette. It was several hours past breakfast so there was no doubt he was going to have to feed his crew before they all _starved to death_. He inhaled deeply and moved in the direction of the galley.

He got about four steps before Zoro rounded the corner.

Good thing the swordsman was watching where he was going, otherwise Sanji would have run smack into him. The cook did what he thought was a fairly good job of keeping his inner turmoil off his face, but the look Zoro gave him said he failed miserably.

“What’s your problem, cook?”

Sanji exhaled. “Nothing. What’s your problem?”

Zoro’s eyes narrowed. “I asked you first.”

Sanji slipped his hands in his pockets. He tried desperately not to think of his earlier fantasy—the one he had been having not five minutes ago—where Zoro was sucking his cock so enthusiastically, but that didn’t really work either.

“I’m on my way to make lunch, Marimo. Get outta my way.”

“I’m not in your way, you’re in mine.”

Sanji gritted his teeth, knowing full well that Zoro was antagonizing him on purpose, but unable to stop himself from retaliating.

“The moss on your head finally take over your brain? I said move!”

Zoro sneered. Sanji had known it was coming.

“Make me, asshole.”

Lunch was a little late, and Franky pitched a fit about the railing on _Sunny’s_ starboard side, but as Sanji stood over the stove later that afternoon, he reluctantly admitted to himself that he felt a little better.

It wasn’t cooking, and it wasn’t getting lost in the arms of a beautiful woman, but fighting with Zoro was definitely the next best thing.

* * *

It was six weeks until they were within a whore’s reach again. The astronomically impossible events that had led them to this thriving port were too insane to think about.  
Marines, pirate armadas, fucking sea witches (okay, that one hadn’t been so bad), and flesh-eating goats for crying out loud! As Sanji brought his glass to his lips, he wrestled with mixed feelings of disbelief and complete and utter contentment.

His life was fucking amazing. Yeah, there were bumps along the way, and yeah, he got frustrated with certain rubber captains and stupid green-haired first mates (for vastly different reasons) once in a while, and he sometimes sported a limp or a few extra stitches, but goddamn it, every day was a fucking adventure. He wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.

Standing over the grill, Sanji rotated the beef skewers and checked the edges of the peppers. The group of ten on the right needed to come off soon, but they could use a tad bit more charring. The cook took another swallow of his drink and frowned when he saw the bottom of the glass. Had he really just polished off three mugs of this shit? No wonder his head was fuzzy.

The Strawhats had landed on the island the day before and had wandered into Toya City just about the time the sun had started to set. This was when the flesh-eating goat problem had happened. Sanji didn’t want to think about all the crap they had gone through during the night and into this morning. The cages were full again and the beasts were on their way back to whatever lab they had come from, so in retrospect nothing else really mattered.

Toya’s people were grateful for the Strawhat’s help and had decided to celebrate. Sanji had offered his services as a chef. The people had accepted enthusiastically and now the town square was filled with the smells of cooking, music, and laughter.

Sanji smiled a tipsy sort of smile and flipped the skewers again. Life was so fucking _right_ at the moment. 

He looked up just in time to see Luffy, Chopper, Usopp _and_ Franky performing their world famous chopsticks-up-the-nose trick. 

“Sanji-san, is the food almost ready? I’m skin and bones!” Brook approached, surrounded by several small, wide-eyed children, all clamoring around his legs. “But then again, I am a skeleton! Yo ho ho ho!”

The chef grinned and whipped a couple skewers off the grill and passed them around to Brook and the kids.

“Ya know, it’s always pissed me off that you can’t taste my cooking, hic!” The hiccup caught Sanji off guard and he chuckled at himself. Those drinks were hitting him harder and faster than he’d expected.

“Aaah,” the boney musician replied, his voice lowering softly, “But despite not being able to taste it with my tongue, Sanji-san, I still can taste good food with my heart.”

The children were silent. Sanji had not been expecting the compliment, and he reddened. “Ah-” was all he managed before the children and Brook broke out into laughter.

“Shut up, ya stupid kids! And you too, you stupid skeleton pervert! Get lost!” He turned back to the grill with a growl. The children ran off, giggling. Brook remained.

Another laugh joined in, but this time it was Robin, carrying an empty plate. “You and Zoro-san are as bad at accepting compliments as Chopper.”

Sanji’s heart went googly, as did his expression. “Robin-swaaan, who the hell would want to compliment that stupid ape? And thank you for returning this plate to me, my beautiful queen!” He took it from her with a bow and started piling vegetables on it. “Can I get you anything?”

“Neh, neh, Sanji!” Chopper and Usopp came running up to the expanding group excitedly. 

“Where’s Zoro? You, him and Franky and Chopper have to show the Postmaster Flaming Cactus trick!” the marksman insisted.

“I don’t friggin know-” 

“Absolutely not!” Nami’s voice rang out beautifully over the din of the party. “I forbade you idiots from doing that the LAST TIME I FORBADE YOU FROM DOING IT! I’m not wasting a _single_ beli of my hard-stolen treasure to pay for the damages!” Sanji’s red headed fire goddess stormed her way through the crowd to join them with Luffy and Franky on her heels. 

“But Naamiiiii,” his captain whined, “I promise-”

“NO,” Nami thundered. “You promised last time, and the time before _that_!”

“But Navigator-chan, we’ve gotten better since last time-”

Nami rounded on Franky. “Do you like it when Zoro and Sanji wreck your ship? No!” she shouted. “The Sunny is yours, and my share of the treasure is MINE. Every time weeeee-” she exaggerated the word and waved her hands around to indicate the entire crew, “-have to pay for some act of mass destruction done by you or one of these other monsters, I lose some of my money! So NO!”

Sanji snorted as Franky and the boys sighed, their hopes dashed.

“Don’t upset Nami-sswan, you idiots,” Sanji growled. “At least try to act c-civilized and not destroy the city we busted our asses to save!”

They each groaned in turn, Luffy huffing as he pouted. 

Chopper perked up. “Then let’s do the Flying Fire Penguin!” 

A chorus of “yeahs!” went up and Nami smacked her hand over her eyes. The boys were off, Brook included this time, and Sanji was left to bask in the ladies’ presence.

Robin comforted Nami as she contemplated how much it would cost them this time.

“Don worry about it, Nami-san, I’ll won’t let thosse idiots break anything,” Sanji crooned as he took the last of the skewers from the grill and loaded them onto a platter. He flourished the pile of meat and veggies as he did a half twirl and set the entire thing on a table. It was fairly amazing he pulled it off, considering how the world kept spinning after he was sure his body had stopped. 

“Sanji, where _is_ Zoro?” Nami asked.

***

Maybe it was a good thing he was heading back to the ship, he needed to sober up some anyway. Sanji realized that Nami’s concern over Zoro possibly being drunk in public somewhere causing havoc was valid, but knowing the swordsman the way he did, Sanji fully expected to find him piss drunk in the crow’s nest.

The walk to the docks was interesting. The road sort of curved to the right and Sanji was pretty sure that was new. It hadn’t curved so much earlier that day. He chuckled to himself as he neared the ramp leading to _Sunny_ for no reason at all and slowly started to climb.

Of course, the night couldn’t get any better, so logically it had to get worse. When Sanji reached the deck and hoisted himself over the railing, he noticed the door to the galley was open. Why the hell was the galley door open? Who the hell was on watch!? Why weren’t they watching things!?

But it all became quite clear in a fuzzy sort of way when the cook flung the door open, sending it crashing loudly against the wall. Zoro sat at the table, feet propped up, leaning back in the chair. The bottle of pilfered wine halfway to his lips froze when the swordsman realized who was standing there in the doorway.

“Ya know,” Sanji started, his tongue feeling a little too big for his mouth, “There’s thiss party in the Town Square with all kinds of spectacular liquor things happening, and you’ve come back to the ship to ssteal my good cooking wine.”

Zoro stared at him. “So?”

Sanji moved into the room towards the table. “Iss just one of those things that makes you such a great asshole.”

Zoro growled and slammed the bottle down on the table. He started to stand but Sanji put up his hands in defense.

“Wait, wait, hold on. I didn’t really mean it in a bad way. Well, I did, but I didn’t mean to... never mind. I don’t really care that you’re an asshole and I don’t really care that you took the wine ‘cause I’m assuming you’re on watch and I don’t wanna fight ‘cause I think I might be a little drunk right now? Hic-”

Zoro rolled his eyes and sat back down with a thud.

Sanji looked at him and blinked.

“I think I might be too.”

Sanji chuckled and dropped onto the seat across from the swordsman. “Well shit, how many bottles did you steal?”

Zoro shrugged. “Four or five.”

Sanji snorted and folded his arms on the table, dropping his head down. For some reason that was really funny. Zoro had stolen four or five bottles? That was going to be super expensive to replace! Why was he laughing?

“Oh my God I hate you s’ometimes,” Sanji snickered.

Zoro hummed. “Well, I hate you all the time, so don’t feel bad.”

Sanji hissed a laugh through his teeth and looked up to find the swordsman trying to hide a small smile. He pointed an unsteady finger at Zoro and waggled it back and forth.

“I’m gonna kill you tomorrow once my headache goes away.”

It was Zoro’s turn to snort. “Whatever, you won’t even remember this.”

“Will too.”

“Nope.” Zoro took another long drink from the almost empty bottle. “I could say pretty much anything to you right now and you’d forget it by tomorrow morning.” 

“You’re on,” Sanji sat up, bracing himself on the edge of the table.

Zoro looked at him and blinked slowly. Or at least Sanji thought it was kind of slow, it might not have been, everything was kind of slow at the moment. But, besides everything being slow, Zoro really did look a little out of sorts. Maybe he really was really drunk.

Sanji did something that was perilously close to a giggle. 

Zoro ran the back of his hand over his mouth and his eyelids sank to half-mast. Sanji felt hot suddenly, flushed. He felt his heart thump against his ribs in anticipation of what Zoro was about to say.

Zoro looked at him with those hooded eyes, his face a canvas of seriousness as he readied himself for some kind of confession.

“Sometimes...” Zoro finally spoke, ever so softly, “I want to steal a pair of Robin’s heels and try them on, just to see what they feel like.”

For a moment, Sanji just started, dumbfounded, but then a grin spread across his features. “You son of a bitch, I totally thought you were fucking sserious for a second! What the fuck!”

But to his surprise, Zoro didn’t crack a smile. The swordsman didn’t even move.

“What?” the green-haired man growled and Sanji suddenly pictured Zoro as a testy badger, his hackles raised, the defensive little thing backing into its hole. “Haven’t you ever wondered how they walk in those things? Or run? I mean, they _serious_ take some shit out there. Why the _fuck_ would they chose to do that?”

Sanji only found himself laughing harder, not so much because of what Zoro was saying, but because of the look he was giving Sanji from across the table.

“Oh my God,” he chortled, “Zoro, you’re such a dumbass.”

Zoro’s brow furrowed. His hand tightened around the neck of the wine bottle. “Laugh it up shit-cook. I don’t fucking care. Like I said, you won’t remember this tomorrow.”

Sanji put his hands up. “No, no, Zoro. You are a dumbass, but not...” Letting another very manic and admittedly non-masculine giggle escape his throat, Sanji reached out in silent request for the wine bottle. To his surprise, Zoro handed it over. He took a swallow and shook his head.

“A’course I’ve wondered what it feels like. I mean, I can’t imagine walking around on my tiptoes all day. It’s gotta be the most fucking uncomfortable thing ever.”

Zoro’s expression had softened and he relaxed the more the cook spoke. When Sanji offered the bottle back, he took it and took a long drink.

“They know it looks damn good... but that can’t be the only reason, right?”

Sanji shrugged. “See? It’s a misstry. A fucking awesome, sexy misstry. Maybe you really should steal a pair of Robin-chwan’s shoes and try ‘em out. Gather intel on how the other sside operates.” 

Suddenly, to Sanji’s utter surprise, the corner of Zoro’s mouth turned up in the smallest of smiles. The cook’s stomach did a little flip flop, and he knew it wasn’t because of the alcohol.

“So,” Zoro drawled, suddenly shifting and leaning back in his seat again. “Yer tellin’ me you wanna see me try on lady shoes.”

Sanji froze, stuck between wanting to laugh and feeling like he’d just been caught with his pants down.

“I... well, no...” Well actually, who was he kidding? “Okay, maybe, yeah. But you know...”

Zoro’s left eyebrow rose slightly in response.

Sanji leaned forward conspiratorially. “Pretty sure Robin-chhhwan’s shoes are too big for me. And Nami’s are too small.” 

The cook’s eyes widened in mock amazement. “Shit, that means if I want to wear girls’ shoes, I’ll have to actually go buy some...”

Zoro roared with laughter, slapping his knee. Warmth spread through Sanji’s body, but he gave himself the usual line - it was the alcohol.

* * *

Two days later, the hangovers had worn off and he and the swordsman were back to sniping at each other and fighting. They were setting sail tomorrow, and he had business to attend to.

Sanji wanted food, he wanted booze, he wanted a hot ass, and a warm bed.

He’d had made it six blocks into Toya City when a terrible shiver ran up his spine. He _hadn’t_ been looking for it. He hadn’t. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. Not since entering the city, anyway. This possibility, too, had become a part of his fantasy, particularly now that he owned a coin. 

Even so, the excitement of their adventure finally winding down and the lure of the old fall-back had completely blocked the idea from his head.

So there it was—the two-toned sun painted brightly on the side of a tall building, calling to him, screaming at him to acknowledge its existence, daring him to process it. Good thing he’d left the coin where he put it the first time.

Not that he would have used it. No fucking way.

Sanji turned on his heel and walked the other direction. He needed to find a woman. More specifically, he needed to _pick up_ a woman. No brothels, no whores, just a bar and a drink and all his charm. He needed to know he still had it…

…that he still wanted it.

* * *

Zoro hadn’t seen it from the ship this time, but he had known it was there. A port this big, this prosperous, it was a certainty there would be a male brothel. You didn’t stick hundreds of thousands of people on an island this big and expect that the demand wouldn’t win out.

Wandering the streets of Toya City, hoping he would either get too lost to find it, _or maybe, just lost enough to come across it by accident,_ he growled under his breath at his earlier lack of discipline. He had steeled his will against it. He had fought, he had agonized, terrorized himself, waged a bloody, violent, _epic_ war in his soul over it, but ultimately he had succumbed. The coin sat hot in his hand at this very moment, a terrible weight crushed between his fingers and his palm. Zoro was sure that if he were to look down, open his fist, his skin would be charred black, slowly melting away from his bones.

_It’s just in case… just on the off-chance…_

Turning down another street in yet another busy district, Zoro caught sight of a hanging sign that read _Dancing Jug_. It was too nice an area to be full of lowlifes, but not nice enough to have none. Maybe he’d get in a fight and fuck someone up. That seemed normal.

Zoro knew a bar was a bad idea. He knew he would find a reason to fuck someone up even if there wasn’t a good one. He knew he was probably going to end up breaking a whole bunch of stuff and in the end have nothing to show for it but bloody knuckles or something worse. He knew he’d be better off channeling that energy on an opportunity with a woman he wasn’t sure would come up again in the near future, but he really didn’t feel like listening to himself at the moment.

He tucked the coin into his boot and told himself to forget about everything.

Zoro was going to get himself straight, so to speak. But first, he needed to get drunk. And that required a lot of drinking.

* * *

“But that’s impossible! You are so totally pulling my leg right now!”

Sanji grinned and took another swallow of his drink. She called herself Aya. She had long brown hair, smooth skin, and a sweet smile. She was also not a prostitute.

It wasn’t as if the idea of being with a prostitute was no longer appealing to Sanji, but prostitutes made him think of brothels, and brothels made him think of male prostitutes, and male prostitutes made him think of Zoro getting sexed up by male prostitutes. Sanji really didn’t want to be thinking of Zoro period, and thinking of Zoro in a sexual situation was just infinitely worse.

No, tonight was going to be fun. He was going to woo this beautiful woman, and then take her home and make love to her with such passion that she would write him love letters every day. She would leave lipstick kisses on the pages that had been sprayed with sweet-smelling perfume, and then Sanji would sit back and be absolutely fine with Zoro catching each and every one of them from the messenger gulls.

This was the plan anyway.

It had taken less than he had expected to rope Aya in with stories of the Strawhat’s adventures. She listened with wide eyes and giggled at all his jokes. He crooned her praises as the alcohol in his system settled his earlier nerves. Their bodies moved closer together as the evening turned into night.

Sanji had forgotten how satisfying the chase could be. He liked brothels for when he was tired or stressed and he wanted a sure thing, but once in a while, it was thrilling to come in with a clean slate and try with a woman that could at any moment decide that no, she wasn’t into it. Lately he had been so caught up in this stupid game with Zoro that he hadn’t had the time, or the opportunity, to work for anything. He had been focusing so much on one-upping the swordsman, or trying to prove himself, or just—

_God damnit he was thinking about Zoro again!_

He turned his attention back to Aya and gently pushed a lock of her soft hair behind her ear. Whatever she had been saying died on her tongue as she looked into his eyes. Her breasts brushed against Sanji’s arm as he reached around her and pulled her close. He needed to get it together and focus on the task at hand. Not let his mind wander to stupid green-haired swordsmen that had started to get really fucking sexy when they were being annoying.

“Hey, bartender!” Sanji called. “Another round for me and the lady!”

* * *

Zoro froze halfway through the entrance, that familiar timbre carrying across the tavern alerting the swordsman to the chef’s presence. His vision zeroed in on Sanji immediately. The chef was tucked away in a corner, wrapped in a gorgeous woman, smiling that dashing smile and drinking in the woman’s adoration.

 _This is a good thing_ , Zoro told himself. It was this very scenario that he had hoped would win out. Sanji had let everything roll off his shoulder, and so the swordsman was safe for that much longer. However, knowing this did nothing to ease the embarrassing and painfully telling ache in his chest.

He wanted to maim something. He wanted to tear the fucking city apart. He wanted a fight so fucking bad. But he quickly turned and left.

The adrenaline coursing through him quickly burned itself off as he stalked angrily down the Toya City streets, spending far too long trying to find his destination and fuming the entire way. There wasn’t any alcohol in him, and he’d yet to find a good outlet for his energy. He couldn’t fathom looking at a woman at this point. Any whore or bar chick would only serve to remind Zoro of what Sanji’s preferences were. He could go back to the ship, but why? Sanji would be burying his face in some gorgeous women’s pussy and he’d be stuck jacking off in the bunk and being bitterly disappointed. So fuck Sanji and fuck trying to hide it and fuck the whole fucking FUCK—

“Welcome, sir, may I see your coin?”

Zoro looked up and the nasty snarl he’d been pointing at the ground quickly disappeared. He’d managed to storm his way to his destination without being aware of it.

“...Sir?”

Zoro blinked and registered the attractive, young attendant peering at him. He fished the coin from his boot and produced it for inspection.

Smiling brightly, the attendant returned the coin and knocked on the door. Zoro was admitted with a small bow.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Aya’s home was on the East side of town, far from the docks in a quiet neighborhood of tall apartment buildings and quaint shops. Sanji made a mental note to come back tomorrow and try out the little fruit stands that were now closed for the evening. He might even ask Aya to accompany him.

“Sanji?” Aya asked from the doorway.

Sanji turned to her and snuffed out the cigarette he had nursed on the way here. “Yes?”

Aya’s eyes sparkled as she pulled her bottom lip through her teeth. “I know I said... I mean...”

Sanji smiled softly and reached for her hand. He brought it to his lips, never taking his eyes off her face. “I didn’t expect anything tonight, love. If you want to end it here and go up to bed I won’t be angry.”

The way she was looking at him told Sanji exactly how much she didn’t want it to end. He did a little mental victory dance and straightened, her hand still in his.

“How would you feel if I said goodnight now?” Aya asked, her lids heavy.

Sanji moved in slowly and leaned against the door frame. He tilted his head to the side and reached up his free hand to tuck another runaway lock of hair behind her ear. He had discovered fairly quickly that was her weakness.

“I’d be... disappointed...” he said softly.

“Just disappointed?”

This was actually easier than he remembered.

Leaning in, Sanji whispered against her cheek. “Okay, _very_ disappointed. It’s not every day you meet a girl that makes your heart pound.”

It was partially true; she did make his heart beat a little faster. She was beautiful after all. It just wasn’t that kind of _thump_ against the ribcage he had gotten used to over the last few weeks.

Aya giggled. “Whatever, you’re famous! I bet everywhere you go you have girls throwing themselves at you! Lined up even!”

Sanji shook his head pulling a serious expression over his features.

“No... not like you.”

He felt her body relax. She leaned into him and he took her chin gently in his hand. Sanji felt a little sick lying to her like he was, but he was too far into the game to back down now. He tilted her face up to his and brought his lips down on hers as gently as he could. She reacted just the way he had anticipated and slid her arms around his neck. 

Damnit, he was such a bastard.

* * *

Zoro sighed. This type of establishment was lost on him, and he considered turning right back around. It was the kind of place that put a lot of one’s money towards the atmosphere and, Zoro frowned, _companionship_. Why the hell a brothel would bother to focus so much on the song and dance aspect of sex, the green-haired man did not know. He did not have any interest in pretending to court someone tonight, and he absolutely had no desire for tea. And that's what this place was, by the looks of it. A tea house. A tea, whore house. Did they even serve liquor?

This place was so well _lit_. And fancy. Not the velvet carpet fancy, more like lace and puffy sleeves-

“Good evening, sir,” Zoro was stirred from his frustrated inner dialogue once again, this time by a manager type. “Welcome to _The Tea Rooms_.”

Zoro snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. He needed to leave.

The manager seemed to notice Zoro’s displeasure, and did just what a practiced salesman would do.

“You look like you could use a strong drink. Shall I show you to the lounge and we can discuss your requirements for the evening?”

That was more like it. Zoro chewed on it mentally for only seconds before sighing and nodding. 

Alcohol. He needed some.

He let himself be led further into the establishment and into a busy lounge, where other patrons were being accompanied and served by a wide variety of attractive men. Zoro had been mostly right—this place was fancy, but not exclusively so. There were men in suits as well as men in seafaring attire. In other words, pirates like himself. The chatter was loud, but not raucous. There were a few bartenders, about a dozen waiters, and he couldn’t count how many companions. Maybe this place would work out after all.

He was seated at a small booth near the entrance, and he was immediately attended by the waiter. After ordering “something decent”, the manager slid into the chair across from him and produced a clip board.

“How shall I address you, sir?”

“Zoro’s fine,” he replied, nodding at the waiter who brought his drink.

“Very well, Mr. Zoro—”

“Just Zoro,” he corrected.

“Of course. Well, Zoro, forgive me for saying so, but I could tell from the moment you walked in that _The Tea Rooms_ was perhaps not what you were expecting, or, perhaps more accurately, what you were hoping for. I’d like to assure you that no matter your expectations, this establishment is more than capable of addressing your specific needs. Were you looking to stay for the evening?”

Zoro nodded and took a drink.

“Excellent. And would you prefer to select your companion—”

A dull ache started in Zoro’s chest again, and he took another drink.

“- or would you like the house to provide you with a selection?”

The swordsman had sworn a long time ago, to never again let “the house” choose for him, but he wasn’t going to fall into the trap of picking someone that looked like Sanji.

“I’ll choose, but no blonds.”

“That can be arranged. Are there any other considerations you would like me to keep in mind when assembling some choices?”

As long as he didn’t look like the chef, he didn’t care.

* * *

Sanji took a moment to survey the small apartment as he made his way through the entry and passed a tiny living room. The place was clean, smelled nice, but a little too cluttered for his taste. Every surface was covered in knick-knacks, vases filled with flowers, or books. It was homey, appealing, but just a little too much for Sanji and his need for organization.

Aya had gone in ahead to “freshen up”, so Sanji wandered into the kitchen. He spotted a bowl of fruit on the counter and decided to check the cupboards. He found a bottle of rum that was about two-thirds full, so he took down two glasses from the top shelf and pulled a small knife from the rack. When Aya returned, smelling like soap and cherry lotion, she started to offer Sanji a drink, but he beat her to it. The chef handed her the fruit and rum concoction and she hummed her approval after taking a sip.

“This is amazing,” she murmured, taking another swallow. “How did you do this?”

Sanji shrugged. “Everyone underestimates what they have in their kitchen.”

Aya smiled sweetly and lifted the glass to her lips again. She moved closer, and lifted her hand to gently loosen Sanji’s tie.

“You don’t have to get me drunk, you know,” she said softly. “I’m pretty much a sure thing at this point.”

Sanji scoffed and took the glass from her fingers. “Nothing’s ever a sure thing.” _Unless they were prostitutes. Prostitutes were usually a pretty damn sure thin—_

Blocking that particular line of thought from his head, Sanji downed the rest of the punch rum and set the glass on the counter. Aya’s hands were making quick work of his tie and belt, and he wasn’t about to let a beautiful woman do all the work.

Sanji wrapped his arms around Aya’s waist. He grabbed a couple handfuls of her perky little ass and lifted her easily. Her legs came around his waist and her arms wrapped around his neck. He breathed in her distinctly feminine scent and kissed her neck.

“Where’s the bedroom, princess?”

* * *

From the balcony, Zoro examined each companion as they sat in a group, pretending like they didn’t know they were currently being inspected. There was one—about his own height, short brown hair, strong build. He seemed like a good candidate for a hard, angry fuck. But there was also the smaller one, with copper red hair pulled back in a braid. He looked younger, but he also looked like he had the energy to take Zoro’s mind off everything.

“The one with the braid,” Zoro said after considering in silence.

“Lev is an excellent choice, sir. He will join you in your room shortly. This way please...”

* * *

Women were perfect. Women were soft and smelled so good. They made the sweetest noises when you touched them _there_ , and they moaned so beautifully when you rubbed them _there_ and _there_. Aya was perfect. Aya was a dream. She was soft and supple and her legs were long and her breasts were so firm and her nipples tasted like cherries and her hands were so small and gentle on his cock and he just…

…God damnit. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck _fuck fuck fuck fuuuuuuuuck_.

Sanji lifted his head and growled under his breath. He sat up and ran his hands roughly through his hair. This was not happening. This was not fucking happening.

“Sanji?” Aya panted beneath him. “Sanji, are you okay?”

Sanji shook his head. No, he was not okay. He was never going to be okay again.

Aya sat up and put a gentle hand on his cheek. Her scent was all around him, it was heady, intoxicating, but not enough. She wasn’t enough and Sanji hated himself at that moment. He had taken advantage of this woman to sate his own personal struggle, and now she was the one that was going to have to pay for it.

He was such an asshole, he didn’t deserve to figure himself out.

Sanji lifted his head and looked at her. He studied her long hair falling over her shoulders and over her breasts. Her lips were kiss-swollen, the flush on her cheeks was dark and easy to see even in the low light.

“God damnit,” Sanji whispered, agonized. “You’re so beautiful…”

Aya scooted forward, folding her legs and placing her hands on Sanji’s thighs. “Do you need help? It was hard a second ago, is there something you need me to—”

“No!” Sanji held up his hands. “Oh God no, no! Everything down there is working perfectly fine! It’s not… it’s not that kind of problem.”

Aya rubbed her thumbs in gentle circles along Sanji’s muscles. The cook wanted to crawl in a hole and die. How could he have done this? Wasn’t he a gentleman?

“God, I’m so sorry…” Sanji slid back to sit and folded his legs, mirroring Aya. He put his forehead in his palm and closed his eyes, shame washing over him in waves, stronger than any he had ever felt before in his life.

Aya’s fingers pushed through his hair. “There’s someone out there, isn’t there?” she whispered gently.

Sanji sighed heavily, but didn’t deny it. Why should he? There really was someone else, and fuck all if he hadn’t been thinking about them the whole time his hands and tongue were on Aya.

Her hands were soft and warm as she rubbed his arms. “There’s a girl that you love somewhere but she doesn’t love you back, right? But even though she doesn’t love you back, it doesn’t stop you from feeling unfaithful, does it?”

Sanji chuckled without humor and ran his hand over his eyes. “If only it were that simple.”

Aya shifted again, pulling the sheet from where it had fallen minutes ago and draped it around her naked body. She scooted closer and took Sanji’s hand.

“Tell me.”

* * *

Zoro groaned and ignored the urge to close his eyes and let his favorite chef-based fantasy overwhelm him. He focused instead on the swollen lips at the base of his cock, and the straining sounds Lev was making to accommodate Zoro’s length down his throat. Holding his head in place, Zoro slowly pulled back, and Lev sucked hard, closing his bright green eyes and moaning as the worker lathed his tongue along the bottom of the swordsman’s swollen member. The green haired man sighed in pleasure and rocked his hips forward, giving a gentleman’s amount of attention to not startling or choking the guy.

Lev encouraged him by relaxing his mouth, inviting Zoro to fuck his face.

His hips jerked forward at the show of submission. His cock twitched in Lev’s mouth which seemed to excite the prostitute. He put his hands on Zoro’s hips and tried to encourage him to utilize a faster pace. Zoro obliged, cradling Lev’s head with both hands now and pumping faster. And harder. Lev made loud, sucking, gulping sounds but never pulled back from Zoro’s thrusts.

Zoro felt himself winding up for release, but he pulled back and Lev gasped, blinking away tears that streamed down the sides of his face. He licked his lips and smiled.

Breathing heavily, Zoro sat back on the bed, and Lev sidled up to his customer, settling on his knees before the swordsman. He reverently stroked Zoro’s cock, flicking his tongue out occasionally to taste.

“Feeling relaxed now?” Lev’s breathless voice washed over Zoro like a warm bath. He only “hm’d” in response and nodded. Lev smiled, his bright white teeth dazzling, and he climbed up on the bed behind Zoro, settling on his stomach and biting his lip invitingly.

“Forgive me—I’m not usually so quick to the fuck, but I need your cock in me. Now.” He spread his legs shamelessly, and Zoro’s length twitched again. Lev’s green eyes smoldered with lust.

Zoro doubted the prostitute was typically more demure, but he was not going to refuse that invitation. He snatched a rubber from the stand next to the bed and ripped it open, quickly rolling it on before settling in behind Lev and flipping him onto his back. Lev seemed surprised, Zoro noted, but not unpleasantly so. He needed to see the starkly different face, the bright green eyes and the red hair. None of it reminded Zoro of anything, so he needed to focus on that.

* * *

Sanji couldn’t look at her. He was so afraid of what he would see. He had told her everything, _everything_ , and now it was just a matter of seconds before she would ask him to leave.

But, like so many as of late, Aya surprised him.

Her fingers returned to his cheek and she cupped his jaw in her hand. “That’s so sad…”

Sanji’s eyes snapped open, finding her face. What did she just say?

Her thumb caressed his skin. “Maybe you should talk to him?”

Sanji laughed, and this time it was for real. The notion of talking to Zoro about his new unrequited feelings for the stupid swordsman seemed about as preposterous as talking Luffy into becoming a vegetarian.

“He wouldn’t listen,” Sanji murmured. “Or he’d just get angry or disgusted. We’d end up tearing the ship apart.”

“You don’t know that,” Aya said. “From what you’ve told me, he sounds like he cares about you.”

Sanji huffed through his nose. “Maybe you weren’t really listening.”

Aya smiled. “I think you would be surprised. You found out his secret and instead of freaking out, he trusted you with it. And then he let you into that part of his life—”

“That’s really not how it happened—”

“Yes it is! He trusted you with his secret and then let you into even more vulnerable territory when he went with you to the dinner! It’s one thing to tell someone or to confess about some secret that you have, but letting them see you in that secret is… enormous. I think you’re selling him short.”

Sanji didn’t have even the faintest idea what to say to that. He found himself completely at a loss for words. He knew Aya was romanticizing the whole thing - there was so much she couldn’t possibly understand - but still, what she was saying did make sense. In a way.

Oh God, what was he supposed to think now?

He sat with her for a while longer, letting her comfort him, but then he kissed her softly on the forehead and told her that he needed to go. She helped him dress and walked him to the door.

“If you…” she started, but then stopped herself. “Never mind.”

Sanji didn’t hesitate. He pulled her close and kissed her. He tried to thank her for what she had tried to do, and apologize for the awful way he had treated her. He tried to show her in these last few moments that he did find her beautiful, desirable. She was wonderful and perfect and any man was more than lucky to have her.

When he left her place, she was smiling.

* * *

Nails dug into the skin of Zoro’s shoulder, but it didn’t hurt. He paid careful attention to Lev’s gasps and cries, pulling back intermittently to make sure his face was screwed up in pleasure, not something else. He was taking his frustration out on this boy, but Lev seemed not to mind. Quite the opposite, in fact. His creamy thighs were wrapped tightly around Zoro’s waist as the swordsman plunged his cock into that tight heat with a determined pace.

Zoro leaned down to take a dusky nipple into his mouth, snapping his hips forward harder as Lev whined. He kept one hand busy stroking the red head’s length, not too committedly, but enough to keep his partner near the edge. He teased one nipple for a little while before moving to the other, letting Lev’s musical composition of sounds and breathing drown out the green-haired man’s thoughts.

Lev bucked his hips to meet each of Zoro’s thrusts, his back curling and arching in turns, his hands grasping at Zoro’s skin, his hair and sometimes the sheets and headboard. Zoro pulled himself up and Lev vocalized his displeasure, but Zoro took both his wrists and pinned them above him, giving the companion a silent command to keep them above his head. Then he grasped the boy’s thighs and pushed them further apart, increasing the speed of his thrusts as he felt the wave of his orgasm build.

Lev struggled to leave his arms above his head, but Zoro ignored his plight and took the red head’s straining cock back into his hand, the prostitute’s precum making it slick as he stroked the hot length quickly.

“Uuungh, Zoro, Zoro-” Lev cried, and Zoro reacted to the call, losing momentary control of his thrusts as he tried to finish the boy off at the same time his orgasm came crashing down on him. He faltered again as Lev bucked wildly beneath him, streams of hot cum splashing between the two of them and Lev’s muscles twitching and clamping around his own cock.

The swordsman snapped his hips forward and bore down on Lev selfishly as he sought to ride out the rest of his own release. Lev finally could no longer keep his hands in place and he reached out for Zoro, pulling him down and kissing him as Zoro’s orgasm finally receded.

His thrusts slowed as he let the boy caress his mouth with his own. He wasn’t thinking about Sanji. He wasn’t. He couldn’t be. He couldn’t do this to himself any-fucking-more.

* * *

Sanji walked the streets. He knew what he wanted to do, and it was completely possible to do it. It wouldn’t even be that hard. He’d just go back to the ship, act like he was changing out of his sweaty shirt, then slip into the kitchen and grab it from the can in the back of the supply room…

No one would know. He had overheard Zoro’s plans to hit up a bar and get drunk, so there wasn’t that great of a chance of running into the swordsman. Well, there was definitely still a chance but… if Zoro had indeed discovered that there was a male brothel here, it was late enough that the Marimo was already deep into… whatever he was into, right? Sanji could slip in, request what he wanted and then disappear, right?

Shit, okay, this was a bigger risk than he had first anticipated. But whatever, fuck it. He was going to do what he wanted to do, and no one was going to stop him.

Not even Zoro.

* * *

Zoro sat quietly in the lounge, this time tucked away at a table more towards the back. It had been a couple hours since he’d asked to be excused from Lev’s company. He was physically hungry and sexually sated for the moment, and didn’t really care to keep any further company beyond the bedroom. No chatting with prostitutes or divulging his inner desires. No crafty prostitutes to trying to play games with his head this time.

He emptied the third bottle of sake and was thinking of approaching the manager to see about another companion—Lev had been a great fuck, but he thought he’d take pity on the guy and give him a break for the rest of the night. He had a bag full of beli, enough to cover a generous tip for Lev and someone else if that’s what he decided. He was about to call for the waiter when the hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he instinctually looked towards the entrance of the lounge.

Fuck. Him. Running.

His mind wildly told him it was Christian. Christian had followed him to this island and was stalking him. But that voice, that wasn’t Christian’s voice. And Christian wouldn’t have walked into a brothel looking like he was going to jump out of his fucking skin.

Zoro quickly plastered himself as far into the booth as he could and ducked under the table. If that pervert chef saw his green hair—

Then the swordsman’s common sense started to kick in. Why the fuck was he hiding? And why the fuck was Sanji here? Was he looking for him? Had something happened with the crew—

The manager that Zoro had spoken with before approached Sanji and tried to usher him into a seat. Sanji refused and rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous motion. He spoke a few soft words to the manager and slipped his hands into his pockets. The more the cook talked, the more comfortable he seemed. He couldn’t have been there for any kind of… No way. The idiot had to be looking for him. He had to be.

This was why when Sanji headed out with the manager in the direction of the “tea rooms”, Zoro got even more confused. 

The swordsman sat still as stone, tension rippling through him until a waiter approached his table.

“Can I get you another drink, sir?”

“I need to see the manager.”

“Yes sir.”

He turned smartly on his heel and Zoro watched him walk promptly out of the lounge.

A few agonizingly long moments later, the manager returned.

“Were you looking to choose-”

“The man that just came in here,” Zoro interrupted, “-the blond. Was he looking for me?”

The manager’s mouth twitched and he paused, and then said, “Any patron who receives visitors is notified of their presence immediately.”

Zoro opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“Is there anything else I can help you with, Zoro?”

Sanji wasn’t looking for him. But Sanji was here. What the fuck was Sanji doing _here_?

Suddenly Christian’s smug, smiling face flashed through his mind. _Why the fuck do you think he’s here?_ , he seemed to sneer.

Zoro had to act quickly, and judging by his impeccably professional response to Zoro’s query, the swordsman knew he’d get no favors from the manager. He’d have to try something else, short of causing a very unfortunate scene, because he would if it came down to it.

“I’ll take you up on your early suggestion.”

The manager perked up at that response. “Of course. Would you please follow me?”

* * *

Sanji thought to himself for the millionth time that he was an idiot, but then the door opened and several men entered. The cook stood on the small balcony with the attendant and watched as each companion moved easily into the room and sat down. They spoke to each other, low voices wafting up from below, tickling Sanji’s senses.

“Do any of them please you, sir?” the attendant asked.

Sanji looked them over. He had asked for men of his height with short hair and a muscular build. He didn’t think too hard about why he had chosen that type, he didn’t have to. He didn’t want to depress himself.

And fuck it, if Zoro could go into male brothels and have sex with guys that looked like _him_ , he could sure as fuck do the same thing.

Unfortunately, none of the men looked like Zoro. However, there was one that was close to the same build, and he had almost the exact same haircut. A little more jewelry than was probably necessary, but that didn’t really matter. The guy had some scars, and his face was rough and handsome.

“That one,” Sanji said, “the one with the brown hair and earrings.”

“Trope,” the attendant said. “He is very accommodating. I’m sure you will find him satisfactory.”

“Whatever,” Sanji folded his arms over his chest. “Just tell him not to speak to me, and don’t turn on the lights. I don’t really want to see him.”

The attendant nodded. “As you wish, sir.”

* * *

Zoro picked the youngest one, and then he asked for Lev as well.

The manager raised an eyebrow, and said delicately, “That will triple the original agreed upon price, as you may be aware.”

Zoro hadn’t thought of that. He didn’t have the cash on hand. But he could let them hold on to Sandai while he returned to this ship for the rest.

Thankfully, the manager agreed, and Zoro was escorted to his room where Lev and the other boy were waiting for him.

It was an astronomically embarrassing tail, but Zoro weaved it without any embellishment and got his point across as quickly as he could. He might have sounded a little more desperate at times than he really liked, but that was just the way he was starting to sound when he was talking about Sanji.

Lev was teary-eyed by the end of his rushed tale, but Zoro had made a critical mistake thinking the younger one, Von was his name, would also be sympathetic. Lev had summed it up perfectly when he’d put his hand on his hip and muttered, “greedy bitch” in response to Von’s demands in return for their help.

But Zoro had agreed. Nami would no doubt be pleased when he came crawling to her for the money, but the she-demon be damned.

Now, Zoro pressed himself against the wall and peered around the corner. Lev was standing in front of the door whispering animatedly to a companion that looked familiar.

_This is insane_ , he thought, and not in the way he was used to. Zoro was used to impossible odds, fighting invincible monsters and carving his captain’s way through the New Age, fucking up everyone who got in their way.

Now, he was about to bust in on Sanji in a gay brothel. He had no fucking idea what he was going to do past the point of opening the door.

But key to his motivation was knowing that he wasn’t going to let some fucking stranger touch Sanji. No one else was touching Sanji. If that fucktard chef wanted to experiment with his god damn sexuality, then he was fucking going to do it with Zoro. He was the first in line, and he’d been in line for a long, long time.

Seeming very confused, the burly, brown haired companion made a face at Lev before he shook his head and moved down the hall. Lev turned to Zoro and waved him over.

“Follow me.” Lev walked quickly and silently in the same direction as the other prostitute, and Zoro jogged to catch up. Whispering, Lev filled him in. “We’re just going down the hall to swap clothes. Take out your earrings and take off your clothes. Put on what Trope gives you.

“What?” Zoro whispered, “Why?”

“You think your friend isn’t going to know it’s you the second he smells this thing?” he tugged on Zoro’s haramaki.

“What? I wash this thing like every other day!” Zoro growled.

Lev waved his hands. “No! It’s not that it smells bad! It’s actually... well, never mind. If Sanji really is your friend, and he really does live and fight with you, one second in the same room as you and this and he’s going to know.”

“Know what?” 

“Shush, just get in here.”

Zoro moved into the room and glanced over at who he assumed was Trope. The man looked at him and shook his head again as he pulled off his vest.

“Here, give me your earrings,” Lev held out his hands.

“I still don’t understand why I’m changing clothes,” Zoro pulled his earrings out and handed them to Lev. He felt very out of the loop and it was starting to piss him off.

“Trope was instructed not to speak and to keep the lights off.” Lev explained. “The room is pretty dark, and you and Trope have pretty similar body shape. If you put on his clothes and jewelry, you might be able to play around a bit without Sanji knowing it’s you.”

Zoro was dumbfounded. “You... I’m going to be the prostitute?”

“You’re a companion,” Trope murmured in a low voice as he tossed Zoro his clothes, “Not just some prostitute, so don’t act like some Goddamned street hooker. You might want to put on some cologne too. You smell like you just killed someone.” 

Zoro’s head swam as he mindlessly pulled off his shirt and haramaki. This was so wrong. This was going to backfire on him so badly.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Sanji sat in the dark. His hands were trembling. His _fucking hands_ were actually shaking. What was he doing here? What was he really doing sitting in a brothel waiting for a guy that he was just going to pretend was—

No. He wasn't going to do that. He might have chosen Trope because he had Zoro's basic physical build, and his hair, and maybe some other stuff, but he wasn't going to stoop so low as to actually—

The door opened and Trope stepped softly inside. Sanji's heart crawled up into his throat. His fingers gripped the soft wool of his trousers and his teeth clamped down on the cigarette that hung from his lips.

Shit, this was happening.

The man closed the door behind him but stayed in the doorway unmoving. Sanji tried to play it cool, tried to sprawl himself slightly in the chair, lay a hand nonchalantly over the armrest. He let a finger slide slowly around the rim of the glass that had been offered to him a few minutes before. He had instructed Trope not to talk, so Sanji knew he was going to have to give the commands, but did he even have a voice? Would he be able to speak?

Sanji was about to lift a hand to beckon for the companion to come closer, but then he realized the lights were off—at his request—and Trope might not be able to see him. That would be almost as smooth as nodding over the den den mushi.

_Stupid. Get it together._

"Come here," Sanji said, surprising himself with how steady his voice sounded.

Trope came forward slowly, the outline of his body just barely visible. He moved with that same careful grace that Zoro used when he was being cautious, when he was stalking a predator. Facing a challenge.

Shit, that was hot. He really did have Zoro's basic outline, but the fact that he also kind of moved like Zoro too was incredible. Sanji shivered as Trope's thigh brushed his knee. He was sure the next time he tried to speak his voice really would be gone.

But it was not.

"Get on your knees."

Trope obeyed. He lowered himself to the floor between Sanji's legs and slowly ran his hands up the cook's thighs. Sanji shifted in his seat, sliding down to accommodate the larger man's torso. He took a drag from his cigarette and let the smoke waft out of his mouth slowly.

Oh, Trope was a good actor. He trembled ever so slightly as Sanji touched his wrist and ran his fingers over thick, beaded bracelets. The cook could hear the man's breath catch as Sanji's leg rubbed against his side.

Maybe this wouldn't be so hard.

"I think you can figure out what to do next," Sanji whispered, slipping the cigarette back between his lips.

Trope hesitated for only a moment and then slid his hands up to Sanji's belt. He pulled the leather from the buckle and pulled the piece apart expertly. But instead of going for what would normally be the goal anywhere else, Trope moved to Sanji's shirt, pushing the fabric up to the cook's chest. Sanji made a noise, started to tell him to stop, just get to it, but the command died in his throat. Trope's hands were burning, and his lips as they came down on Sanji's skin lit a fire.

Sanji hissed. This was... kind of amazing. The feel of calloused palms on his sides made him dizzy. The idea that the one touching him was larger, maybe stronger, might be capable of doing things to him that no woman ever could, was exhilarating. Was it always like this with another man? Or was this a male prostitute thing? Was it always so desperate?

Trope's rough lips seemed too big, moving over Sanji's stomach with an intoxicating combination of confidence and hesitation. The cook slid a hand through the short hairs at the back of Trope's neck and he let his fingers play with the large, jeweled earring dangling from the man's ear. The metal was a cold, sharp contrast to the heat of Trope's skin and Sanji couldn't stop the soft sound that escaped the back of his throat as he felt his trousers being undone.

Lifting his hips, Sanji sank even further in the chair and huffed softly as Trope freed his erection from his boxers. Sanji's trembling increased. He fumbled to find his glass and drop the cigarette in the dredges of his whiskey with a hiss. He barely had enough time for his hands to clutch at the rough fabric of the cushions before a hot tongue ran slowly from the base of his cock to the tip.

"S…shit…" he growled.

A warm mouth wrapped around him and Sanji bucked. Trope's lips slid all the way to his base. He took Sanji's length like no woman had ever done before. The back of the man's throat was wide and inviting, his tongue slid along his skin. It was hot inside and wet and oh god it was good! So fucking good! Trope didn't even use his hands, he just ran his lips back and then down, back and then down. He knew just how much pressure, just how and where to place his tongue as he moved. His palm went to Sanji's sack and the cook arched his back.

"Naaagh, God damnit," Sanji groaned.

His fingers went back to Trope's hair, and he twisted his grip into the short strands. Sanji's other hand found the back of the prostitute's neck and urged him forward. Not roughly, but definitely harder than he ever would have with a woman. Trope increased his pace, seemingly pleased with Sanji's participation.

Those rough hands slid back up Sanji's thighs and the cook shuddered as Trope's strong thumbs caressed the skin over his hips. Sanji felt the pressure building, tension coiling in his balls and his gut. His breath caught in his throat as he felt his orgasm coming fast and hard. He gripped soft, short hair and groaned, his cock pulsing and spilling into the back of Trope's throat. The man drank him down like he needed it, sucking him eagerly, perfectly.

_Oh wow, that was great… That was really, really good…_

That was what Sanji was thinking, but "fuck… fuck…" was the only thing he could get past his lips.

He might never ask a woman for a blow job ever again.

* * *

Zoro slowly pulled back, shock starting to set in. He ran his tongue along the insides of his mouth, over his teeth, savoring every last drop of flavor.

 _And now...?_ His hands remained on Sanji's thighs, still massaging, kneading like a contented cat, despite the fact that he felt anything but. Sanji's breathing would even out quickly, then he'd want to sit up, and possibly his eyes had adjusted to the darkness by now—

Zoro looked up sharply as Sanji exhaled, sounding well pleased.

Well, he could be content with that, at least.

The swordsman finally released his hold on the chef and stood. He moved to the other side of the room as the blond sat up.

"Don't go yet," was Sanji's command, his voice thick.

Zoro didn't move, grateful to be out of Sanji's line of sight for the moment. Should he just fucking run for it? The pervert chef was still languishing in the afterglow, his guard was down. Zoro would be able to fly out the door, dodge around a corner and into an empty (he hoped) room before Sanji knew what was happening.

If he could run with this raging boner that was screaming at him from his pants.

Zoro could see through the darkness the other man's outline as Sanji lifted a hand to his head and ran it through his hair. He could hear the sounds of him patting the front of his shirt for his cigarettes and a light. "...There's more money in it for you if you stay."

Zoro's eyes bulged. What exactly was this idiot chef doing? It's not like Zoro's first had been any classier, but at least... he hadn't...

The swordsman's sense of shock began to fade, quickly. It didn't matter what Sanji thought he was doing. The truth was probably closer to the notion that Sanji had no god damn clue what he was doing, but did Zoro?

The evidence before the swordsman very clearly told him that he did not. Here he was, privy to this incredibly private and life-changing experience without Sanji's knowledge. He was too cowardly to show himself, he had no idea what he expected to come of this, and worst of all, it was all poisoned by deceit.

"So are you staying or not?"

Zoro's heart thumped loudly against his chest. He needed a way out of this.

"I don't bottom," he lied, his voice barely a whisper.

But thankfully, Sanji only chuckled and struck a match, his back still turned to Zoro. The swordsman's throat closed for a moment as the flame momentarily illuminated the room and the occupants therein. It went out just as quickly, and Zoro breathed.

"Not asking you to bottom," the chef puffed on his cigarette, and Zoro's nostrils were overwhelmed with that familiar smell of high quality tobacco. "There isn't a fucking dignified way to say this, but I need your help."

"My help?" Zoro muttered, trying not to say much now that the gag order had apparently been lifted. It wouldn't take much for Sanji to recognize his voice–Zoro could pinpoint the chef's in a crowded bar.

The sound of Sanji exhaling raked over Zoro's nerves. "Look..." Sanji stood, facing his stand-in companion. "I got nothin'."

Zoro blinked in confusion, but stood still and rigid, his muscles ready to spring him into action—defense, offense, fight or flight. "What?"

He heard Sanji growl in exasperation. "I got... nothing. No experience, no god damn frame of reference, I've never fucking _touched_ a man before this –well, except Saul, but anyway—just... I need..." Sanji stalled, and the silence began to stretch.

Trying to process what he was hearing while also trying to keep the situation from blowing sky high was difficult for Zoro, but thankfully something in him told him this was not a good time to be silent. _Trope_ would not be silent. What the fuck would Christian say to a client that dumped all this on him?

"Practice," Zoro finished for him. Sanji wouldn't have been able to say it, because Zoro wouldn't have either.

So why _did_ he just say that? Just a moment ago he was already planning his escape route, and now he was back to playing prostitute and asking himself what would Christian do?

Sanji took another drag off his cig and put a nonchalant hand on his hips. "Yeah, I guess. And you're here, I need the practice, I can pay you... What do you got to lose?"

Zoro almost reacted to that, but he was paranoid that any of his typical behavior would reveal himself.

"So," he kept his voice hushed, "you want to pay a whore to pop your cherry?"

He said it that way on purpose, as a sort of last ditch attempt to wake Sanji up to what he was doing. The chef could do whatever he wanted and whatever decision the love-cook made would be the right one because Sanji had made the call for himself.

But Zoro also knew that he could have taken care of this for Sanji in another place, at another time, in the daylight or in the soft glow of an inn lantern. And then he could look Zoro in the eye, and Zoro would make sure Sanji didn't regret giving him that privilege.

"No," Sanji said flatly, surprising Zoro yet again. "You're clumsy at this stuff aren't you? Are you new or something?"

"Sort of," he muttered quickly. _Think, you dumb fucker!_

Sanji snorted and sat down the edge of the bed. "Well, whatever. I'm just gonna... return the favor."

Zoro's knees suddenly unlocked from the tight stance he was in and he took a small step forward to catch himself. Sanji wanted to blow him. He wanted to put that mouth on his very, very hard cock.

Sanji reached across and patted the chair as invitation. Zoro slowly approached and lowered himself where Sanji had been sitting before.

Sanji hesitated for just a moment before slid off the edge of the bed and onto his knees in front of Zoro. The swordsman's heart and breathing stopped when Sanji reached over him to put his cigarette in the ashtray next to the chair. He was so fucking close.

_Don't start thinking, pervert chef,_ Zoro willed at the other man. _Don't figure it out..._

Zoro felt the other man's hands slide up his hips, resting just at the waistband of Trope's pants. He heard Sanji take a deep breath before he slid the fabric down to his knees.

Zoro almost came then. He could feel Sanji's hot breath ghosting over his length. The chef's calloused hands slid up his now bare thighs.

"Any advice?" Sanji laughed softly, one hand wasting no time in gripping Zoro's cock at the base.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ was everything that summed up Zoro's existence in that moment.

"Watch the teeth," he managed instead.

* * *

Shit.

Was he really going to do this? Was this really happening?

Sanji slid his hands up Trope's thighs, letting his fingers feel the smooth skin, the heat at his hips, the first gentle swell of muscle on his lower abs.

Trope was shaking. Sanji could hear the trembling in his breath, feel it in the muscles of his thighs. It was more than just excitement. Even if Trope hadn't confessed to being knew, Sanji could sense it. Knowing this, the cook felt his confidence returning. He took a breath and wrapped his hand around the prostitute's rock-hard erection.

"Any advice?" he asked, unable to keep the gentle chuckle out of his words.

Trope shivered under his hands and it made Sanji feel very powerful.

"Watch the teeth."

Shivers rocketed down Sanji's spine. Trope's voice was so sexy. It kind of sounded like Zoro's when the swordsman was half asleep, or drunk. It had that gravelly, rough edge to it that Zoro's did. That quiet promise of something more powerful hidden behind blunt words and short phrases. Of course, Sanji knew it was just his mind playing tricks on him. He was enjoying the fact that this prostitute was a lot like Zoro physically, so his want for it to actually be Zoro was manifesting in this man's voice. He wanted to hear Zoro, so in a way, he sort of was hearing Zoro.

Sanji quickly considered telling Trope to turn on the light. Maybe he kind of looked like Zoro too?

No, that was doubtful. There was no way he looked like Zoro. If he turned on the light Sanji knew without a shadow of a doubt he would be disappointed. Best to leave Trope a mystery.

Sanji's hand gave Trope's cock a few slow strokes. He felt his confidence wavering at the thought of actually putting it in his mouth, but when the prostitute let out a quiet breath and arched, the cook's ego spiked a little. Sanji was good with his hands, he knew this, and he knew how this was supposed to feel. He could do this, he just had to do what he knew felt good. He just had to do what Trope just did to him.

_I can do this…_

Sanji leaned in and ran his tongue up the underside of Trope's erection. He didn't think about the texture or the taste, he just did it. He could think about that stuff later. He pumped the length again, faster this time, and slid his tongue up the underside again. He felt Trope's body tensing under him, and his confidence returned in full.

The prostitute's breathing hitched as Sanji put his lips over the tip and sucked softly. He ran his tongue around the bottom of the head like he knew felt amazing. He griped around the base and pumped as he licked and sucked, increasing the pressure, building up for what he planned to do next.

Trope groaned and Sanji was sure he heard the arm rests creak. The cook was going to laugh if the prostitute broke the chair. That was such a Zoro thing. He had actually seen the swordsman do that before when he was getting blown by an exceptionally attractive woman.

_Stop thinking about Zoro!_

Pulling back, Sanji pumped Trope's cock hard and fast a few times. He moved in closer, slid a hand to grip the man's hip. Sanji braced himself and ghosted his lips over where Trope was leaking out onto his hand.

"…Shit…" Sanji whispered.

He went for it.

He slid his mouth over Trope's length. He pressed himself down as far as he could go. It was easier than he had expected, just a little awkward. He made sure to put his lips over his teeth as he pulled back up. He sucked hard, just like how he would have liked it.

It wasn't so bad. It made sense. It was easier than pleasuring a woman because he knew exactly what to do, exactly how to do it. It was actually kind of empowering. He had Trope literally in the palm of his hand, writhing under his touch. Those sounds he was making were so amazing, so sexy. His body, tightening, tensing under his hands. The way—

The cock in his mouth pulsed once, hard. Sanji knew what that meant and quickly pulled off. He jerked Trope's length hard and fast, actually satisfied with the warm splash of cum over his hand. He wasn't ready to get it in his mouth yet, but it still felt good knowing he had done it. He had gotten the other man off with, well, basically nothing.

Sanji gave Trope a moment to catch his breath before he chuckled softly. He stood, pulling his cigarette pack from his pocket.

"That was kinda fast."

* * *

The sweet ache of orgasm hadn't fully left Zoro's loins by the time he began panicking. He was too vulnerable and if he gave the chef a moment longer to figure it out, he would.

Not being very graceful about it, the swordsman rearranged his trousers and nearly jumped over Sanji and the chair to get out of the room. He muttered a thanks as he left and dashed down the hallway. It didn't sound like Sanji was following him. He took a left, then a right, and fuck where the hell was he supposed to meet up with Lev again?

_His mouth,_ Zoro's mind was spinning. _Move, move, oh fuck his mouth…_

Thankfully Lev was keeping an eye out and spotted Zoro before he spotted Lev. Drawing him into the room, he asked, "Well, how'd it go?"

Zoro had no words. He started stripping out of Trope's clothes as Lev handed him his own. He never should have gone in there. Even if Sanji never found out, Zoro felt wrong for doing it. He'd wanted it, he'd lusted after the experience, but now he _wanted_ Sanji to know it had been him. But he knew deep down Sanji could never know. Being gay was one thing to find out about your crewmate, but if Sanji ever found out about this, the chef could very easily call it non-consensual.

Not that Sanji himself had better morals when it came to women. He'd seen the man weep in jealousy at a devil fruit user who could become invisible, because Sanji himself had always dreamt of the ability to be naked and unnoticed in a women's bathhouse.

"Fine," he answered instead. "Gotta get down there."

* * *

Sanji couldn't tell honestly if he felt more smug about his obvious natural talent, or ashamed that he'd obviously embarrassed the new guy. Trope had quickly rearranged himself and rushed out without another word except a small "thanks" as he flew out the door.

He smoked another cigarette before shrugging and deciding to leave. He'd more than compensated the companion that was for sure.

Rounding the corner back toward the staircase that would deposit him in the foyer leading to the bar, Sanji had been too immersed in his thoughts to notice there was a man standing at the bottom of the stairs until he got four or five steps away from him. The chef was busy arranging his cuff when he looked up, straight into a pair of black, unflinching eyes.

"You've been here too long to be looking for me," Zoro said, his voice low. "Find what you were lookin' for?"

Sanji's leg was in the air and ready to connect with Zoro's head before a resounding, clear "Ahem" interrupted them.

Standing calmly in the foyer was the manager.

"It has been a very enjoyable evening hosting you gentlemen. I had hoped that we would be able to extend our hospitality until the morning." He blinked, no tone of menace accompanying his words. Nonetheless, Sanji slowly lowered his leg, and Zoro stepped out of Sanji's way and let him through.

"Allow me to get you gentlemen a drink," he quipped, and Zoro followed Sanji into the lounge. The sharply dressed manager bowed and pointed the crewmates to a seat. "Sit."

The two did as they were told, and drinks were soon laid before them.

The manager hovered only a moment longer and said, "There you are gentlemen. Have a good evening."

Finally, Sanji and Zoro looked at each other again.

"Why'd you try to kick me you shitty—"

"Because you fucking followed me here—"

"I didn't fucking follow you and when the hell did you decide you were gay?"

There. He said it. The word hung in the air like the ding of a bell for too long.

Zoro picked up his drink and downed it. Sanji only continued to grip his glass, giving the swordsman a glowering stare.

Initial guilt and shock from the whole god damn night aside, Zoro knew what his game plan was now. Sanji needed to get comfortable with this situation quick, or Sanji would push him away.

"When you found out about me you kicked my ass all over the beach. Now look at us and you're _still_ kicking my ass," Zoro griped, ignoring Sanji's desire to be too-serious.

The swordsman watched as the chef slowly eased his death grip on the drink. "I didn't exactly plan for you to be at the bottom of those stares. Needless to say I was a little shocked," he said through still-gritted teeth.

"So you're mad 'cuz you found me at exactly the place I'm most likely to be found," Zoro grunted, waving it off. "Or to be precise, I found you at the place I'm most likely to be found."

"It's none of your business—"

Zoro set his drink down hard and glared. "Not my business? Was it your fucking _business_ when you stalked me outside the last brothel? Get the fuck over it, shit-cook. I had to."

Sanji's lips turned up in a snarl as he leaned in across the small space between them.

"You already knew what the fuck was going on with you! You already knew how you felt and what you wanted before I came along! Nothing I said or did or whatever was going to change anything!"

The cook stopped then and slid down into his seat. He seemed to realize he was making a small scene and he lowered his voice as he continued. "I waited outside that brothel because I was pissed you were hiding something so important from me, like you didn't trust me or something."

Zoro ground his teeth. "That's exactly what you were doing just now you hipp—"

Abruptly, Sanji sat back up and slammed his hand down on the table with enough force to jar the glasses and knock the vase filled with flowers off onto the floor.

_"How could I have been hiding something from you when I didn't know anything!"_

Zoro froze, his mouth clamping down on the words he had been about to say. Sanji seethed at him from across the table. His lips were still curled into a snarl, and his blue eyes were aflame, but the swordsman knew the cook well enough to know Sanji was feeling much more than just simple rage.

"Shit…" Sanji growled as he retrieved his pack from his shirt pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He took a few moments to light up and take a few long drags, leaning his body back against the cushions of the booth and closing his eyes. Several of the patrons and companions alike had paused in their conversations to glance over at the two pirates, but after a long beat of Sanji just smoking and Zoro giving them death glares, they resumed minding their own business.

Zoro turned back to Sanji and watched him in silence. The cook's outburst and not rendered him speechless by any means, but he knew better than to break Sanji's moment of self-composure.

When it appeared the cook had calmed down a little, Sanji opened his eyes and reached for his glass, downing two thirds of whatever was sloshing against the rim.

"I wanted…" Sanji began softly, "I wanted to know what was going on with me. I wanted to just… figure things out for myself without anyone giving me shit about it."

Zoro's hand tightened around his own glass. The cook's words cut him like a knife.

"I wouldn't have given you shit. What the hell kind of person do you think I am?"

Sanji closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's not what I meant. I don't mean giving me shit about figuring stuff out, I meant…" The cook made a soft noise in the back of his throat and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

"I don't know. I don't know what I meant. Fuck." He took another deep drag. "But… what if I had told you, huh?"

Zoro's eyebrows rose. "What?"

"What if I had told you?" Sanji ran his fingers over his brow as though he might be able to smooth the wrinkles if he just pressed hard enough. "What if I had told you about Saul and everything that had happened and about being curious… and then I had come here and I'd hated it, or I had decided fuck no, I can't do this?"

Sanji started rubbing his eyelids. "I didn't want to do that to you…"

After a minute or so of silence, Zoro figured the cook was done talking. He relaxed back into his seat and watched Sanji smoke and finish off the last of his drink without pressing the other man. Zoro knew Sanji would continue if he wanted to, and if he didn't, there wasn't anything Zoro could do or say to make him.

Not that Zoro could have spoken if he had wanted to. His heart was beating so heard in his chest he could feel it in the back of his throat. If he opened his mouth now it was possible he would choke on it. Who the fuck was Saul? What the hell had happened at that last island? Had Christian done something? What was Sanji's talking about?

And, shit. Sanji hadn't said it explicitly, but he had definitely alluded to not hating it. He had seemed enthusiastic back in the room, and now he was sitting here, seemingly okay with sitting in a male brothel, having a drink and _not saying he had hated it._

It took significant effort for Zoro to push the excitement and confusion about the whole thing down to where we could manage it. And even more to get past the hurt and jealousy that had boiled up over the things Sanji had just revealed. However, dangerous emotions aside, Zoro took comfort in the fact that he was the one that was here, with Sanji now. No one else, just him. Zoro. The swordsman decided right then that for now this whole thing might be easier if he just pushed his pride down too, along with everything else.

"I'm not angry…" Zoro murmured.

Sanji scoffed. "Oh good. My emotional and physical state at this moment in my life was heavily dependent on whether or not you were angry with me."

Instead of taking the bait and retaliating, Zoro kept his voice even, calm.

"I'm serious, I'm not mad. I'm just… here."

Finally, Sanji looked up. He opened his eyes and studied Zoro through the fingers that lazily held his cigarette. The silence stretched on for several minutes. The two men just sat, studying each other. Zoro waited as patiently as his training would let him.

When Sanji dropped his gaze, it was only then that Zoro realized he had been holding his breath.

"Get me another drink, will you?" Sanji growled.

Zoro felt as if a weight had lifted from his shoulders. He still felt a little raw inside, but at least Sanji was okay. Or on his way back to being okay, or something.

"That last one wasn't enough?"

"Oh, God no," Sanji made a face. "I plan on drinking until I black out."

Zoro made a noise. "Well, that won't be too hard. What do you need, like one more? Two maybe?"

"Shut the fuck up and get that waiter over here."

Later, when the number of empty glasses on the table had tripled, and Sanji's cheeks had turned the color of ripe tomatoes, the cook cocked his head to the side and said in a thick slur.

"Hey, Zoro, where the hell are your earrings?"

* * *

A month passed. The Strawhats sailed through friendly and not-so-friendly waters. They made port on several islands, and battled many strange and interesting… things. The crew members felt nothing was different than it had been weeks before, and if anyone thought it was weird that the cook and the swordsman were fighting less and sometimes even managed to speak a few civil words to each other, they weren't saying anything.

Zoro rested against the railing. The evening was brilliant. The sun was shining warmly even as it began to set, and the sea was friendly. The swordsman's belly was full and he had a bottle, half gone, sitting at his side. The cook had been more accommodating as of late with the alcohol, and Zoro had decided that no matter what kind of beating his feelings had taken over the last few weeks, it had been worth it. No more sneaking into storage. No more fighting tooth and finely-polished shoe just to get a drink. If he wanted one, now days, he just asked.

Of course, the beating on his feelings was significant. Every time they hit land and the crew split up to enjoy themselves, Zoro and Sanji magically ended up going somewhere together. Not brothels, they had not visited a brothel, female or male, since that fiasco with Trope, and the drinking, and Zoro having to break into a room and interrupt Lev and another client to get his earrings back. The two of them usually ended up at some bar, surrounded by women, and just drank until signing seemed like a good idea.

It would have been fine, except that Sanji was so good with people. He had always been good with women when he wasn't spewing hearts up into the sky and crying "Mellorine~!" to everything with breasts, but now he was also getting more comfortable with men as well. It was really difficult sometimes not to just crack open a skull or two. Sanji was exceptionally attractive, and when he made it apparent that he swung in more ways than just the ladies, certain types of men always started to move in. Zoro knew, and counted on, that Sanji could handle himself, but whenever some friendly guy started to get close and put his dirty, rotten hands on Sanji's arm or thighs, it was all Zoro could do to not just blow a fucking gasket.

It always ended the same way. They got drunk, had some fun, managed to not get in a fight (or if they did it was a small one), and then they would call it a night and go back to the ship. The two of them would make their way down the street, swaying from side to side, Sanji leaning heavily on Zoro for support. They never took anyone up on their offers, and they never left without each other. It worked out, it always did, but that didn't put any sort of balm to Zoro's emotional bruising.

Zoro knew that Sanji was okay with flirting, but he was uncomfortable picking anyone up. As to why, Zoro had no idea, but as long as Sanji was cool with just drinking and spending the night with him, Zoro was perfectly content and he wasn't going to complain.

Jerking off in the shower had become a thing, however. Not a normal, couple times a week thing. It was more like a twice a day thing.

This arrangement was becoming so routine, that Zoro was starting to let himself fantasize that Sanji didn't need anything else but him. Obviously, this was stupid and totally self-indulgent, but Zoro was a little pent up, and it was almost impossible not to think those things when a drunk, giggly, Sanji drapes himself over your shoulders and whispers "let's go home" in your ear.

Taking a long drink from the bottle, Zoro sighed. He listened to his crew shout excitedly as they neared the latest island that had some flowery name Zoro couldn't remember. It was supposedly a large merchant town with all kinds of food and wares and supplies that the crew could go nuts over. They had a big shopping excursion planned for the morning, but because it was so late, Nami had suggested they let loose for the night. Everyone could use a little downtime. The ship still hadn't been completely cleaned of the blood from their last run in with Marines.

"I can smell the meat from here!" Luffy exclaimed.

"Get yourself back on this deck you!" Nami chirped. "At least wait until we've reached the port before you go flying into a building!"

Zoro could hear Brook laugh. Chopper was talking to Robin in an excited tone, and Usopp was saying something about something that probably wasn't true, but Zoro just let it all fade into pleasant background as he started to drift off. They still had fifteen minutes at least before they would need him. Might as well nap.

"Oi."

Nevermind.

"Oi, Marimo."

Zoro opened one eye and slid a half-glare up in the cook's direction.

"What?"

Sanji puffed on his cigarette but said nothing. He merely jerked his head to the side, beckoning for Zoro to follow him before he turned and walked away.

Sighing, Zoro momentarily considered ignoring the cook, but then he thought better of it. Pulling himself to his feet, the swordsman grabbed his bottle and followed Sanji up the stairs. The cook leaned against the railing and slipped his hands into his pockets.

Zoro stood beside him, not knowing what exactly he was supposed to do.

"What?" he asked again, stifling a yawn.

Sanji didn't speak for a moment, didn't move, but when he did, his voice was low.

"Look out at the town, idiot."

Zoro suppressed the urge to just nock the cook over the head and go back to his nap, but he turned and surveyed the town. It was big, with tall buildings and long, wide streets housing booths upon booths, tents filled with all kinds of colorful things, and many different kinds of…

…Oh…

There it was. The emblem with the sun painted on the side of a wide, stone building. It could be seen, clear as day from the water. Obviously on purpose as it would be good for business. They hadn't seen a male brothel on their last couple stops, not that they had really been looking, but there it was now, calling out to them—to Sanji, apparently.

Zoro's heart started to pound and he looked over at the cook. He said nothing. He waited.

Sanji took a drag and lifted a hand to pluck the cigarette from his mouth.

"You wanna go?"

Zoro shrugged, not really trusting his voice. He needed it, he wanted it. But what the hell was he supposed to do once Sanji disappeared with another man? Could he handle it? Or was he just going to go insane and kill a bunch of expensive whores because he couldn't control his lust for a stupid bad-mouthed cook that would never look twice at him that way—

"I don't think I'll do anything," Sanji said quietly. "The companions we talked to before—Christian and Saul and them—they said that men came in all the time and just talked."

Okay, this was good. Maybe this would be okay.

Zoro nodded slowly.

Sanji took another drag. "We can rent a lounge or something. I'll hang out and you can go do your thing. Then we can get drunk."

Zoro didn't want to say yes. He wanted to just say fuck the island. Fuck the brothel. Fuck the bars and the dirty men. They could just stay on the ship. They could drink the wine in storage. They could talk about whatever Sanji wanted, and if the stupid cook felt like experimenting, Zoro was ready and willing to be his test subject.

But really now, how could he say that?

"I'll get my coin."

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta by the amazing Ash. Thank you so much!

The place was not much different than the other brothels Zoro had visited previously, save for _The Tea Rooms_. It was fancy, but not in a glittery, floral pattern way, and the amenities boasted in just the lobby were high quality and obviously well maintained. There had been security outside, patrols on the street, and one or two bodies on the roof, but their presence was very minor. Zoro figured this place, as well as the lifestyle, must have been slightly more accepted here on this particular island. 

As the man who met them at the door called for someone to bind _Wado_ , Zoro glanced at his blond companion. Sanji had seemed relaxed enough on the walk over, and he had maintained his cool as the two had climbed the stairs at the front and slipped their coins through the slot in the door. 

If that was the case then that was great. If the cook was going to be chill and have some fun, actually talk to the companions and relax while knocking back a few drinks, Zoro could relax too. Trying to have a good time surrounded by things that made him think of sex while Sanji sat riddled with tension and obvious discomfort was just… Zoro didn’t think he could handle that anymore. He no longer had the emotional fortitude to act like everything was okay if it was not. If Sanji started to get uneasy or even slightly upset, Zoro knew that he would immediately suggest that they leave, and if they did that, both of them would be leaving a brothel together without being satisfied, possibly drunk—or worse, not drunk enough—and headed back to the ship where Zoro knew he wouldn’t be able to hold it in and he would do something irreparably stupid.

However, there was always the chance that Sanji would be just comfortable enough to actually meet someone he liked and—fucking hell—disappear for a bit, and that thought made Zoro’s stomach lurch.

Shit. In every scenario the swordsman could think of he was basically fucked, and not in a good way. 

Finally, on top of everything, as if all that wasn’t enough, Zoro had made a monumental discovery just minutes ago that had shaken his already tenuous state of mind.

_Where the FUCK has Sanji gotten his own coin?_

“All right, gentleman,” the host at the front clapped his hands, “how can we please you tonight?” He was a short fellow, thin, but not in an unhealthy way. His hair was graying and his eyes were tired, but that did not take away from his overall attractiveness.

Zoro took a breath, aware that if he didn’t calm himself, Sanji was going to notice, and then the going-back-to-the-ship option on the list of horrible scenarios was going to commence. He folded his arms over his chest and put on his best show of nonchalance as he turned to the older man, expecting to be the one to negotiate.

Understandably, he was surprised when Sanji spoke up.

“Private lounge would be nice; just one companion for each of us. We’re not picky on looks so whoever is available or would like to join us. Maybe two that work well together?”

The man nodded, giving Sanji an approving once-over. 

“Fit, but not bulky,” the swordsman growled, if only to get the host’s eyes off of the cook. 

The man nodded again. “Will your activities be restricted to the lounge? Or will you be needing rooms for the night as well?”

Zoro couldn’t help but tense as he waited for Sanji’s answer. Then to his horror, the cook shrugged and looked at him.

“Yeah, maybe one.”

_What!?_

“For this guy,” Sanji clarified, turning back. “I won’t need any accommodations but the lounge, and a few classy guys that can hold their drink.”

_Fuck,_ Zoro realized he had been holding his breath, _calm down, you’re thinking crazy._ He let the air out of his lungs slowly, his heart beating hard in his chest.

“A private lounge rental is twice what a room costs, just to be clear,” the man said, “but the advantage is that if any companions happen to wander in throughout the night, their services are on the house.”

Sanji nodded, “Sounds good.”

“Then if you will excuse me, I will go adjust your bill accordingly and send someone to fetch you. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

The man gave a little bow before he turned and exited through an unassuming side door. When they were alone, Zoro cocked an eyebrow.

“We’re basically paying for three rooms, cook. Your negotiation skills are shit.”

Sanji smirked and his hands sat firmly in his pockets. “I don’t need a room, I’d rather have companions come and go, and have the freedom of couches and tables to eat or play cards on.” With that, Sanji finally looked at him and leaned in conspiratorially. “Besides, I didn’t spend hardly any of my Thriller Bark booty on Spa Island. I could buy half the building and still have some left over.”

Zoro grunted, “I doubt that.”

Before Sanji could reply, the large double doors opened and two men moved into the lobby. One was lightly tanned with blond hair and brown eyes, the other was fair with jet black hair and eyes that were so auburn they were almost red. Both men seemed to be in their late teens or early twenties, and both were built like fighters. They were lean, but muscled and moved with a particular grace that only training can give you. 

_Dancers,_ the swordsman thought, _no doubt about it._

“Wow,” the blond said as he made his way towards the two pirates, “Mitch said you were handsome, but that doesn’t really cover it, does it?”

“More like hot as hell.” The dark-haired one shook his head and gave Sanji a long once-over that prickled Zoro’s spine. Unfortunately, Zoro knew he was going to have to get used to it. Sanji _was_ hot as hell after all. 

“I’m Sky,” the blond one said, “this is Roe. If it pleases you, we will be your entertainment this evening. Come this way.”

He held out his hand for Zoro and the swordsman took it without really thinking. He was too busy sneaking glances at the way Roe slipped his arm under Sanji’s and smiled as he led the cook through the double doors.

“Not every day we get celebrities in here,” Roe was saying. “How long are you boys planning to stay?”

“Until the log pose resets,” Sanji said, “so however long that’s going to take.”

“Ah,” Sky released Zoro’s hand and slipped his arm underneath the swordsman’s, mimicking Roe, “So two days, maybe three?”

Sanji nodded, “That’s the plan. Of course, nothing in our lives ever goes as planned, not with a captain like ours.”

* * *

Laughing, Sanji put the glass to his lips and tipped the last of the whisky into his mouth. It burned on its way down, but it was a good kind of burn. It was a good whisky. It was turning out to be a good night overall.

Sky and Roe were smart and funny, excellent card players and absolutely _fantastic_ dancers. The cook could not believe all the ways that Roe could twist his body. If the brunette had been a girl, Sanji was sure he would have already taken her to his room and blissed out as she had her way with him. Several ways. _All the ways._ Sky was nice to look at too. While he wasn’t quite as flexible as Roe he made up for it with his strength. Every time he lifted the brunette over his head it seemed effortless. 

The two of them didn’t have to be doing what they were doing, they were talented enough and competent enough to have gotten jobs in a dance company, or a theater troop. Sanji pondered the duo for a little while, but knew there were probably other factors and circumstances that he was not aware of. Who was he to judge someone else’s life anyway? He was a pirate for crying out loud.

Three other companions had wandered into the lounge over the last hour and a half after hearing rumors of famous guests. Lucca, a tall, dark skinned man with dreadlocks had come in with his friend—a burly redhead named Jax, and the two of them had joined the card game enthusiastically. Sanji had been caught grinning as he studied Jax’s extensive smattering of freckles more than once, and the others had given him the proper amount of shit for it. He couldn’t help it though; there was just something about redheads… 

The third companion was waifish, possibly in his mid-teens, with ivory skin and long, blond hair pulled back in a braid. He had turned grey, mischievous eyes to Zoro when the swordsman had offered the cushion next to him on the loveseat, and had murmured softly, in a breathy tenor, that his name was Edgar. 

Zoro may have denied being into blonds specifically, but it seemed to Sanji that blonds were drawn to the moss-head like bees were drawn to flowers. 

Oh hey, was that ironic? Was it introspective? Nope, Sanji was just making observations, nothing more.

“…but then Sky shows up, basically out of nowhere and slams this guy’s face into the table!” Roe tossed another card down and grinned at his friend across the table. “We thought we were in so much shit, but we ended up getting job offers instead!”

Sky grinned back over the top of his hand, “The most advantageous bar fight I’ve ever been in.”

“The most profitable nose you’ve ever broken.”

“You break a lot of noses?” Zoro asked, his fingers were playing absently with Edgar’s hair.

“Oh, a few,” Sky shifted closer to the swordsman and slid his hand over Zoro’s thigh.

Lucca chuckled, “One of them was mine.”

“Oh, you’re right,” Sky’s grin widened, “I forgot about that.” 

Sanji laughed again as he reached for the bottle and refilled his glass. He really was having a good time, so now all he had to do was keep his cool when Zoro inevitably carried Sky or Edgar—or both—off to a private room. It wasn’t like he was jealous, no way; he wouldn’t go that far, but there was an underlying curiousness that Sanji couldn’t seem to shake. He could chalk it up to the excitement that accompanied new things if he really wanted to, but the cook wasn’t going to kid himself. 

His excitement was basic, and it stemmed from the fact that he had seen Zoro fuck a lot of women, and it had all been pretty hot. Now, Sanji wanted to watch Zoro fuck another guy because he was fairly sure that would be even hotter.

Except… no, no he didn’t. That would be fucking weird.

“So,” Jax said as he tossed a card on the pile, “I need to understand the cosmic events that landed two extremely hot and infamous pirates in this lounge during my shift. What astrological forces should I be thanking exactly?”

“Chance—”

“—Bad luck.”

The lounge erupted with laughter. Apparently, they had all taken Sanji and Zoro’s brusqueness towards each other as a sign that they were close. Not that that wasn’t true, the two Strawhats were close, just not in the way these companions were thinking.

“No, really,” Sky chuckled as he studied his cards, “how do these things work in a pirate crew? One of you make a move on the other one? You catch each other in compromising positions?”

“You could say I caught him,” Sanji smiled, his eyes slid to Zoro wanting to see the swordsman’s reaction.

“More like he found out after he’d been stalking me.” Zoro’s eyes were hard to read, but Sanji thought he might have seen something playful in them. That was good, wasn’t it?

The companions fell over themselves laughing again. Roe leaned in close and giggled against Sanji’s shoulder. “You guys are so cute, tell me you two have fucked at least once. I mean, come on.”

There was a definite shift in the way Zoro was sitting, Sanji saw it in his peripheral. The movement caught his eye and the cook’s stomach fluttered with excitement. 

“No,” Sanji said, “that would be like fucking my brother.”

_Wrong. Fucking Zoro would be amazing and you know it._

“I fucked my brother, it wasn’t bad at all,” Edgar’s teeth flashed as his grin pulled wide.

“He’s your step-brother, you skank!” Lucca teased.

“Still my brother, and it was still great.”

_Just admit it. You want to bend Zoro over the counter in the galley and fuck him until he cries._

It was suddenly very hot in the lounge. Sanji’s collar was chafing and his back was sticking to the soft cotton of his shirt. He needed to get up, get some water, step away for a few minutes or something.

“Hey, I need to use the facilities,” Sanji said, and softly patted Roe on the knee.

“Oh sure! I’ll show you where they are.”

Getting up and following the dancer to the door, Sanji glanced back at Zoro. As soon as he had done it however, he wished he hadn’t. The swordsman was watching him over the rim of his glass, his eyes impossibly dark. The cook had seen that look on the faces of many women, and recently, several men.

It was obvious Zoro was extremely turned on, and it could have been his imagination, but it seemed as if the focus of the swordsman’s arousal was Sanji himself.

* * *

_Get. It. Together._ Zoro thought to himself. _What the hell is wrong with you? What the hell have you been training for all these years if you can’t even control your fucking libido around your fucking crewmate?_

“He is so handsome,” Sky shook his head as the door closed behind Roe and Sanji. “I’m so disappointed he’s a Rupert.”

Lucca had gathered up the cards on the table and was shuffling the stack. “Right? He doesn’t seem like a Rupert type at all.”

Zoro knew he was going to regret getting into any kind of conversation with these men, but curiosity got the better of him. And possibly the alcohol.

“What’s a Rupert?”

“Ruperts are the guys that come in that don’t want anything sexual,” Sky explained. 

“Eh, that’s not entirely true,” Jax waved a finger.

“Okay, yeah you’re right, more specifically a Rupert is a guy that comes in who’s not physically repulsive and doesn’t want sex. Like someone you _actually want_ to suck off.”

Edgar nodded at Zoro. “We have a lot of guys that come in here that don’t want sex but they’re like really, really old or they’re gross or something. They are not Ruperts.”

“We should have another name for men that are smoking hot and don’t want sex,” Lucca chuckled.

Sky laughed. “‘On a scale of Rupert to Sanji, how much did you want to fuck him’?”

“Oh my god that’s perfect!” Jax grinned. “Seriously though, Zoro-san—”

“—It’s just Zoro,” the swordsman muttered.

“Oh, I apologize,” Jax continued. “Seriously, Zoro, if I was you, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off him.”

Zoro wanted to bang his head against the wall. Here he was, again, talking with a group of prostitutes about Sanji—more specifically his relationship with Sanji. How did this always happen? Was he cursed or something?

“I’m sure that I’m the last person on the face of the planet that Sanji would want touching him.”

The companions laughed as if what Zoro had said had been a joke. Unfortunately, the swordsman knew just how true his words had been. He had said them without really thinking, as if the words had always been hanging there at the back of his throat, waiting to be released. 

Suddenly depressed, Zoro slid his arm around Sky’s waist. He needed a distraction and he needed it right now. Preferably, before Sanji returned. 

“Hey,” he said softly against the blond’s neck, “I think you’re gonna have to miss the next few hands.”

Sky’s dark eyes turned to him, and a sly smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Oh yeah?”

Zoro shrugged. “Unless you want me to take Edgar instead?”

“Absolutely not,” Sky stood and held out a hand to the swordsman. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

* * *

“Flea markets? Are you serious?”

Roe nodded, smiling proudly as he showed off the trio of marble statues decorating the entrance to the ballroom. 

“Not even one hundred belli for the three of them.”

The two had made a slight detour on their way back from the restroom when Sanji had noticed a piano in the inner lobby. The tour had evolved from showing off pieces of antique furniture into Roe pointing out every treasure and explaining all the unlikely places they had been discovered. 

However, they had run out of places for Roe to show him and now Sanji was stalling. He had genuinely been enjoying the stories and anecdotes of basically swindling priceless pieces from unsuspecting vendors—Roe was so very much like his lovely Nami in many ways—but he had run out of things to ask about. 

“You know…” Sanji felt Roe’s hands slowly slide up his arms to his shoulders. The companion’s breath was warm against the back of his neck. “If you don’t want to go back yet, I could sneak you into one of the rooms on the second floor. No one would ever know.”

Oh, he’d been caught.

Sanji turned his head and met the other man’s dark, almost-red eyes. He was watching Sanji with calm confidence. Whether Sanji accepted or declined, it probably wouldn’t bother Roe either way. He was just politely offering another option. The cook was grateful, even if he had no intentions in that regard.

“You’re sweet,” he said, and lifted Roe’s hand to his lips. “I’m just… kind of new at this.”

Roe’s eyebrows raised. “Being with companions, or with men?”

“Men,” Sanji replied.

“Really… I wouldn’t have guessed that. How long?”

Shrugging, Sanji took Roe’s other hand and ran his thumbs over the companion’s scarred knuckles.

“A few weeks. Maybe a month.”

At that, Roe’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding! Have you been with anyone? Please don’t tell me you haven’t tried it yet, I’ll cry until you accept my offer.”

Sanji chuckled. “No, no, I’ve been with someone—well, two someones but the second time was… I don’t know what the second time was. It shouldn’t have happened, I was being a creep.”

Roe tilted his head, studying Sanji’s face. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Uh, no I…” Sanji shook his head and his gaze dropped to his hands. He was suddenly a little ashamed. “It’s a stupid story.”

Roe twisted his hands and laced his fingers with Sanji’s. “Listening is my job. I’m very good at it. Why don’t we go back and get a few more drinks. I can get rid of the others if you want, and we can just talk. You’re dying to talk to someone about it, aren’t you?”

Sanji was dying. He was aching to talk to someone about what had been happening to him over the last few months, especially someone who would understand. Zoro probably would, but there was no fucking way Sanji was going to talk to _Zoro_ about how he had chosen a prostitute based on the prostitute’s _physical resemblance to Zoro_. There was no amount of fighting and not enough therapy in the universe that would get the two of them through something like that.

Shaking his head, Sanji mumbled, “I don’t think I’ll be able to if Zoro’s still in there.”

Roe smirked. “You think your friend is still going to be in there when we get back?”

_Oh, right. Fuck._

“Okay, fine,” Sanji sighed, “let’s go. I’m definitely going to need a few more drinks though.”

* * *

Sky had a nice voice, a throaty keen that complimented the hard _slap_ of flesh that echoed through the small room again and again. The dancer had wasted no time after he had closed the door. His clothes had practically fallen off as he had all but ripped Zoro’s from his body; then, he had spread himself wide and accepted the swordsman in one of the most erotic displays of submission Zoro had ever experienced.

This companion was not trying to meddle. He was not reading too much into the situation and then inserting himself into scenarios that made everyone think too hard about decisions they’ve made. He wasn’t teasing or goading or being pushy. He was just offering a service, being exactly what he felt Zoro needed.

And _oh fuck_ was this what Zoro needed.

There had been no foreplay, no kissing or meaningful touches, only Zoro’s primal need to clear his mind and relieve the tension that was threatening to break him down. He now had Sky’s bicep under his palm, crushing a lean but muscled arm into the mattress, his other hand grasped the companion’s opposite wrist. The blond was pinned, locked in place beneath the swordsman’s iron grip. He did not flinch, did not cry out, merely panted and moaned prettily as Zoro fucked him so violently the bed scraped against the floor.

It ended quickly. Not so quickly that it was premature, but the release was surprising—and intense. It caught Zoro off guard. He pushed in deep as he came and managed to keep just enough of his wits to prevent himself from breaking Sky’s arms. 

Things got hazy for a few moments, and when Zoro returned to himself, he was lying on his back, sweaty and sated. Sky lay next to him, breathing hard and murmuring softly.

“…my god… oh my god… I’ve been angry-fucked before but that… holy shit…”

Zoro licked his dry lips. “Sorry…”

“Oh, I’m not complaining,” Sky said, “it was good for me too. I got it on my chin.”

As the endorphins started to fade, remorse began to set in and Zoro chided himself.

“I’m very aware of my own strength,” he said softly, “I shouldn’t have let myself go all out on you. I know better than that.”

He felt Sky shift and then, a cool hand ran up Zoro’s arm and across his shoulder. “I told you it’s fine. I like a little pain. If it was too much, I would have said something.”

“Is this where you ask if I want to talk about it?” 

“Hell, no,” Sky chuckled, “you don’t want to talk about that shit, and I don’t want to hear it. I’m going to get us another couple drinks and give you a massage. Then, I’m going to ride that amazing cock of yours until I’m ready to pass out.”

Well, if that didn’t sound like the most perfect thing ever, Zoro didn’t know what would have.

“You’re very good at your job.”

He could hear the grin in Sky’s voice as the companion shifted to sit up.

“Damn straight, I am.”

* * *

Roe had given the other companions a quick explanation before sending Lucca and Jax on a mission to find them all a late-night snack. Edgar excused himself, wanting to shower and change before he returned. He had already entertained that evening and said he was feeling a little “second-hand.”

It had taken a few more drinks and some gentle coaxing from Roe, but Sanji had finally opened up and explained his situation, from running into Zoro coming out of that first brothel, all the way through their games of one-upmanship, to sharing women, to catching the swordsman at that first male brothel, to Saul, to Christian, and then finally to Trope. 

It had started out so goddamned embarrassing, but when Sanji had gotten to the part about Saul, the telling became a little easier. He spoke with as much respect as he could, wanting to convey just how special of a person that young novice cook had been, and Roe seemed enchanted. 

When he talked about that particular brothel’s other companions, specifically ones that were blond and smoked and had a wardrobe eerily similar to his own, he noticed Roe was having trouble hiding his smile behind his fingers.

“Just let it out,” Sanji said, “I know you want to.”

“I’m sorry,” Roe laughed, “this Christian seems like a lot of fun.”

“Hm,” Sanji smiled around a cigarette, “he was, and he wasn’t.”

The story of what happened at _The Tea Rooms_ raised an eyebrow but didn’t actually have the effect Sanji was expecting. Roe shrugged and sat forward to lean his elbows on the table.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, it’s not as uncommon as you would think,” he said. “There are men that come in here every day asking for someone that’s obviously a substitute. I’m asked to pretend my name is something else or roleplay something very specific all the time. I’m not going to judge you for something like that.”

Sanji nodded. In the back of his mind, he had figured Roe’s response would be something like that. He closed his eyes and sucked on the last bit of his cigarette as he thought about how hearing it out loud didn’t make him feel any better. 

“Anyway,” Roe sighed, “I used to think about Sky like that all the time, before we had ever been together.”

Sanji’s eyes snapped open, intrigued. “You would think of Sky when you were with someone else?”

Roe smiled. “Yes, it made things easier. When I was scared or couldn’t get past the… unpleasantness of a particular customer, it helped to think of something familiar and… safe.”

Sanji thought about that for a moment before he shook his head. “It’s different for us though.”

“How is it different?”

“We’re not lifelong friends like you two are,” Sanji sat forward and snuffed out is cigarette butt in the ashtray. “We’re crewmates, yeah, but Zoro doesn’t even _like_ me very much—or not really at all!”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

Sanji growled but there was no menace behind it. He was just frustrated with the situation, and Zoro, and himself.

“There’s just no way.”

Roe was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “What about ‘The Thing’ with Christian?”

“What about ‘The Thing’ with Christian?”

A grin pulled at the corner of Roe’s mouth and Sanji tried not to see it. Like hell though, of course he saw it.

“Zoro goes to a brothel and picks out the one guy that looks exactly like you? How is that not the biggest ‘I want to fuck Sanji’ flag in the Grand Line?”

Sanji shook his head again. “I bet it wasn’t all sex. He probably knocked the guy around a bunch. I’m sure Zoro has fantasies about me, but they’re all about how he’s kicking my ass in a fight.”

“He doesn’t seem the type to hit a prostitute.”

Groaning softly, Sanji lowered his head to the table. “I know, I’m talking out my ass. The Marimo’s a lot of things, but abusive and sadistic he is not. So that leaves either it was purely a coincidence that the guy he fucked looked like me, or he specifically requested the guy that looked like me.”

“Which of those is more likely?” Roe asked.

“If you knew him, if he treated you the way he treats me, you’d understand why I’m leaning toward coincidence.”

Just then, a flash of memory played out behind the cook’s eyes. A quick glimpse of dust and rubble. A swift blow to the gut. An entire world—a universe—of pain taken from him. Blood running from dark eyes and green hair matted against an ashen forehead.

No, no, no, he was not going to think about that. 

“There’s a difference between having feelings for someone, and just being curious about what it would be like to fuck them.” Sanji’s words were muffled as he spoke into his arms. His breath fogged the polished wood of the table as he continued. “That’s all Zoro wanted. If he chose Christian on purpose, it was probably some kind of dominance fantasy he wanted to play out. And I…” the cook closed his eyes as another wave of shame washed over him. 

“When I chose Trope, it was the same thing. I was floundering, and my feelings were fucked up and confused. It was probably like what you were saying before; I wanted something familiar and safe.”

Taking another slow breath, Sanji was a little surprised to feel despair creeping into his heart. 

“It was just curiosity. It wasn’t…” 

Sliding close, Roe slid a hand up Sanji’s thigh and brought his lips close to the cook’s ear. “I’m going to be completely honest with you for a moment. Is that all right?”

Sanji looked up at the brunette and nodded.

“I know you were about to say that it wasn’t real, but I’m calling bullshit. There’s no way that your feelings for Zoro aren’t genuine. I see the way you two are together. You aren’t just a couple of crewmates that were thrown together. There’s a bond there that runs deep. It’s obvious that there’s something that holds you together that has nothing to do with your mutual attraction, or your sexual compatibility, or even your rivalry. It’s _powerful_. I can actually _feel_ it when I’m with both of you. I bet everyone can.”

Stunned, Sanji swallowed and had to look away for a moment in order to collect himself. Roe’s words were more real than anything that anyone had said to him in quite a while. Of course the bond between himself and Zoro was deep; they were nakama. They had been to hell and back together, they had saved each other’s lives, and Sanji was sure there was much more of that to come. Bonds of adventure, dreams, and freedom connected them to a captain and a crew that was so like a family it made Sanji’s heart ache.

Roe had hit the preverbal nail on the head. How had this happened again? Sanji thought. How did he always manage to get intimate with companions that could see right through him? 

Shifting again, Roe inched even closer and started to speak in an even softer tone. “I’m sure Zoro feels the same way. He’s probably upstairs right now, working out his frustration over not knowing what to do with his feelings for you because he thinks _you_ don’t like _him_.”

He stopped then, blinked a few times, and then pulled away. He seemed to have just recognized where he was, as if he had forgotten. When he turned back to Sanji, he smiled, and it was sad enough that the cook straightened and reached out his hand.

Roe took it and squeezed Sanji’s fingers. “I know that you needed to get this off your chest, and I’m flattered that you’re okay talking about it with me, but I also understand that I’ve probably overstepped my boundaries. It’s not really any of my business, and I have no right to give you advice.” The brunette stopped for a moment to take a breath that stuttered in his chest. 

“However… I have some if you want it.”

Still dazed, Sanji couldn’t make his mouth work so he just nodded.

Roe finally closed the distance between them completely and lifted his hands to cup Sanji’s jaw.

“You have feelings for Zoro, and you need to tell him. I know that sounds like the last thing you want to do, but it needs to happen. You guys need to get it all out in the open, and then fight or fuck or whatever happens next, because the way it is right now? You are both going to go crazy.”

Sanji sat frozen. He barely breathed as he watched Roe’s dark eyes watching him. He felt the weight of the last few months, the exhaustion, pressure, and dread that had piled up in the back of his mind, finally manifest itself. It was out; it had been spoken aloud. He had confided in someone else, and now, his secret had been released out into the world, and the cook could never take it back. 

It was liberating.

He did have feelings for Zoro. Actual feelings. He liked him. Sanji knew that he might have even been a little bit in love with the stupid swordsman. But really, how could he not be? There was just so much. There were so many good things; so many _great_ things. So much history. There were so many layers to their friendship and so many reasons to admire that son of a bitch.

“You’re right,” Sanji finally said. His voice was barely above a whisper. “I hate that you’re right, but… it’s just the way it is.”

Roe smiled, and Sanji’s heart felt even lighter.

* * *

It wasn’t as if Roe had opened his mind, and Sanji had experienced some kind of extraordinary epiphany during the course of the night. No, the cook wasn’t kidding himself. He had already known and understood his feelings for Zoro, and he had for a long time. He just hadn’t wanted to admit to them. Admitting to something, made it real, made it tangible. It made it a problem.

Not that it wasn’t already a problem.

When Zoro returned from his romp with Sky, the two of them were drunk. Their skin was flushed, and their eyes were heavy from the alcohol and, no doubt, a lot of sex. What Sanji found interesting however, was the fact that they were _clean_. Sky’s hair was still damp and even from where the cook was sitting, and he could see that Zoro’s skin was dry and smooth, free of that healthy after-sex sheen that Sanji begrudgingly admitted he was quite familiar with. The swordsman probably even smelled like soap. Whatever they had done it had apparently been so vigorous that they had needed to _clean up afterwards_.

No, Sanji thought, that’s stupid. They had probably just fucked in the bath or something. This place probably had a hot spring or a sauna or something. 

Why was he even thinking about this? 

Jax and Lucca had returned with food a little past eleven, and Edgar had slipped back in around a quarter to midnight. At about one o’clock, they had put the cards away in favor of stories and cigarettes. When Zoro and Sky had finally returned, it was almost two. Lucca and Jax had already gone to bed, and Edgar was tucked into Sanji’s side as Roe danced above them on the table, his body moving to the slow beat of the music playing softly in the background.

“Well, well,” Sky said with a chuckle and a slur. “Who’s this pretty thing up here?”

Roe smiled and beckoned him with a finger. Clumsily, but still with enough grace to resemble something relatively smooth, Sky pulled himself up onto the table and slid in behind his friend. His hands spread over Roe’s hips as his mouth turned up in a grin.

“Go easy, babe, my body is _wrecked_.”

Roe laughed and Sanji glanced at Zoro out the corner of his eye. The swordsman had the decency to look somewhat sheepish as he took a bottle from behind the bar and joined them. When he tipped it back to drink, he was not watching the dancers. He was watching Sanji.

“I thought you were out for the night, Marimo,” Sanji said.

Zoro might have grinned from behind the mouth of the bottle, but there was a possibility that Sanji had imagined that.

“I promised Edgar I’d eat him out later.”

The small blond chuckled. “Oh, I thought you forgot.”

The cook bristled at the comment, and he wasn’t even sure why. It’s not like that was the first time he had heard Zoro say something crass. Actually, Sanji had heard him say far worse. At least Edgar’s “second hand” comment made more sense now.

“Well,” Sanji forced himself to smile down at the young companion, “don’t let me keep you.”

“In a hurry to get rid of me, cook?”

The swordsman’s eyes were stone, watching him with far more of an edge than someone who was so obviously inebriated should have. It set a tingling at the base of Sanji’s spine. What did that look mean? What was Zoro thinking? Hadn’t he just been upstairs “working out some tension” or something? Why did he still look ready for a fight?

“Not trying to get rid of you, moss-brain,” Sanji growled, “just thought you might need a little more work done. You seem… tense.”

If Zoro thought Sanji’s words were bait, and for all intents and purposes they were, the point was mute. The swordsman didn’t take it. Instead, he slid closer to where Sanji was sitting in the circular booth and offered the bottle.

Not wishing to break the flow in whatever kind of communication this was, Sanji accepted and took a swallow.

“I’m gonna ask you a question,” Zoro’s voice was gruff but quiet, “you don’t have to answer if you don’t want ‘cause it’s not that big of a deal. I’m just curious.”

“Okay,” Sanji said, intrigued, “out with it.”

Zoro reached for the bottle and after Sanji handed it back, he took a long drink. Even after he lowered the rim from his lips, he still hesitated. Or at least, it seemed like hesitation. Sanji wasn’t sure what that actually looked like on the swordsman.

Finally, Zoro spoke.

“Who is Saul?”

* * *

Damnit.

Zoro knew he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box but holy shit, there were dull tools, and then there was just fucking stupid. Why had he just asked that question? What did it even matter? Who the fuck cared about some companion two or three islands ago that Sanji may or may not have had sex with?

Well, Zoro cared. He cared _a lot_. He was dying to know who this guy was, how it happened, what exactly they did, and what the hell that guy had that Zoro didn’t. The whole thing had been bothering the swordsman since he had first heard the name. 

Sanji watched Sky and his partner for a minute before he spoke. “How do you know about Saul?”

It was hard to think straight through the haze of alcohol, but Zoro managed to piece Sanji’s words together and form an acceptable response.

“You’ve mentioned him a few times.”

_Or several times. A few times too many if you asked me._

“He was one of the cooks back at that first…” Sanji trailed off for a moment, “back at the place with Christian and all them.”

“Aw, that’s cute,” Edgar murmured and he nuzzled his cheek farther into Sanji’s shoulder. Zoro watched him do it, excited; knowing that when he took the companion back upstairs, he would fuck him and smell Sanji the whole time.

That was really messed up, and Zoro knew it, but he was just drunk enough, and still just frustrated enough, that he didn’t give a shit.

“How is that cute?” Sanji smiled and sucked on a freshly lit cigarette. 

Edgar hummed, “Well, aren’t you this famous chef? You went to one of our brothels filled with companions that are trained to give you pleasure in any way that you could possibly conceive, but instead you bedded one of the cooks. The cooks aren’t necessarily trained at all, but this guy was probably a huge fan of yours.”

“Uh, well… I don’t…” Sanji scratched at the end of his nose, looking embarrassed and flattered at the same time. Zoro hated it. He knew he would never be able to make the stupid cook look like that, no matter how much praise he heaped on the bastard.

“So, like I said it’s cute,” Edgar continued. “You bypassed all the professionals and got it on with someone that was probably a little in love with you.”

“He wasn’t…” Sanji cleared his throat. “Uh—”

“—Okay, help me understand something,” Zoro interrupted, and then he really wished he hadn’t. When Sanji turned to look at him, the cook’s features were soft, gentle like he had never seen them when they were focused in his direction. 

He should just shut up now, tell them never mind. Why ruin a good moment? Sanji was loose from the drinking, and he was calm. The stupid cook was never calm unless it was a fight. He was also apparently drunk enough to be okay with talking about things, so why couldn’t Zoro just leave it alone? This was such a perfect opportunity to just sit back, shut his fucking mouth, and listen!

But the alcohol was not having it; Zoro couldn’t stop even if he really wanted to. He was horrified and humiliated to realize just how jealous he truly was.

“So,” Zoro said, the words sliding over his tongue without his consent, “if you’d already fucked a guy at that first brothel, why did you need to test yourself by sucking off some guy at the fancy place? You told me…” he stopped and licked his lips. His mouth was suddenly dry and his head was spinning. He should just stop. Why was he doing this?

He began again. It was like his brain was a freight train and the brakes were shot. “You told me you were trying to figure things out, and you were hiding it from me, even though you were pissed that I was basically doing the same thing before. Now, I find out that you’re still hiding things from me.” _And I don’t know how to deal with that,_ he thought to himself.

Sanji cocked an eyebrow at him, the gentleness of his features was fading, and Zoro mourned their leaving.

“You want me to report in? Give you details about my budding bisexual lifestyle now, Marimo?”

Fuck, he should have just shut up. Zoro knew he should have just shut. The fuck. Up.

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“What the hell did you mean then?” Sanji’s face was red, and Zoro was sure there was some kind of significance to that, but his blood was mostly whiskey at that point, so understanding the various shades of Sanji was not something that was going to happen that evening.

The room was still spinning and Zoro was having a hard time holding on to the things he didn’t want to say. They were starting to slip from his grasp as gravity pulled them from his hands. Or his mouth. Wherever those kinds of things came from.

“I don’t mean you have to tell me every detail about every little thing. You don’t want to know every little detail about what I do, right?”

Sanji scoffed. “N—no!”

There was probably something significant in the way Sanji said that too, just like when Zoro had noticed how red the cook’s face had been, but it was just beyond what the swordsman could makes sense of. He would figure it out later. Maybe.

“Okay,” Zoro rubbed at his eyes, “I’m just trying to say, don’t keep important shit from me, like your first time with a guy. That’s a big fucking deal.”

“I don’t see why I have to tell you anything about anything, asshole.”

“I’m not saying you _have_ to, I’m just saying—”

“—It’s not any of your business anyway!” 

“Yes, it is!”

That, apparently, was the straw that broke Sanji’s cool.

“How the _fuck_ is it any of your business, you son of a bitch!?”

“Because!” Zoro shouted back, “I feel _totally fucking responsible!_ ”

Well, there is was. Zoro hadn’t even thought about it that hard, but apparently, it had been lurking there under the surface, eating away at him for some time. Probably since the moment he had first seen Sanji talking with Christian. For better or for worse, Zoro knew this was all his fault. He hadn’t pushed Sanji over the threshold, no; the cook had taken that step himself, but there was the simple fact that Zoro had unlocked and opened the door for him.

Sinking back into the cushions, the swordsman took another long drink from the bottle. He didn’t want to look at Sanji, but it was like his eyes had a mind of their own. They slid sideways, catching a wide, blue stare surrounded by that stupid-sexy blond fringe. Sanji was gaping at him, the fight completely drained from his posture. The swordsman looked away again, not sure what to think after seeing that reaction, and brought the bottle back to his lips. What else was he supposed to do? 

“Hey, Zoro…” Sanji said softly. “Is that really what you’re worried about? Is that what’s making you upset?”

No. “Maybe.” Part of it.

“That makes it sound like you’re ashamed,” Sanji continued. “Are you ashamed to be the way you are?”

“No.” That was the truth. Zoro would never be ashamed of who he was. That would be stupid.

“Then, I don’t understand.”

Okay, that was enough. Zoro no longer had the mental fortitude to maintain his cool. “Look, I’m too drunk to have this kind of philosophical conversation with you. Ask me again when we’re not both totally blitzed.”

The swordsman expected resistance, a fight, or something that resulted in property damage and bruises, but to his surprise, Sanji just started laughing.

“What?”

“Holy shit, Marimo,” Sanji chuckled, tilting his head back and running the fingers of his free hand through his hair. “There you go with those multiple syllable words again. ‘Philosophical’? Damn, Robin-chwan would be so proud!”

Oh good, he had dodged a bullet.

“Shut up shit-cook.”

Still laughing, Sanji pulled Edgar closer and spoke softly down at the companion. Zoro had all but forgotten there were other people in the room. Edgar had been listening with such attention he had barely moved in the last ten minutes. Also, Sky and his partner had slowed their dancing and lowered themselves to sitting on the tabletop. Sky was wrapped around the brunette and had his head resting on the other man’s shoulder. They were watching both him and Sanji with as much attention as Edgar, but there were also enjoying each other’s skin. A lot of skin. When had the two of them taken off most of their clothes? 

“…but if you could just get his mind off it,” Sanji was saying, “I would really appreciate it.”

Zoro turned back to the blonds. What were they talking about?

“It would be my pleasure,” Edgar smiled and peeled himself off of Sanji’s lap. “Let me know if you… need anything else.”

Zoro saw teeth flash in a rakish smile before his vision was filled with Edgar. The young companion smelled like soap and flowers, and his skin was unbelievably soft as he slid himself over Zoro’s lap.

“Come on, Roronoa-san,” he purred. “Let’s get you upstairs. I’ve been instructed to help you relieve the last of that tension.”

He let himself be maneuvered off the couch and led to the door. He might have shot a look back at the cook, but his face felt a little numb so he couldn’t be positive. Sanji waved to him as he left. 

What was Zoro supposed to do? He had promised after all, and Edgar might not have been exactly what he was looking for, but he was beginning to look tastier by the second.

* * *

“Are you going to be okay, Sanji?”

The cook’s head snapped up. “Hm?”

Roe and Sky were watching him with intensely curious stares. Sanji had been so lost in thought he hadn’t even noticed the companions had been talking to him.

“I’m sorry, I was just thinking.” He snuffed out his cigarette in the ash tray and reached for his pack. Chain smoking sounded like the best idea right now. 

What just happened? Did he really just have that conversation with Zoro? Had he really just lost his cool and stammered away when Zoro had asked him about wanting to know—

—God he was so stupid! He should just paint a sign that said “I want to bang Zoro” and hold it over his head at all times. It would be less obvious than how he was acting. And what was all that about Zoro feeling responsible? What did that mean? He felt bad? Was he angry that Sanji had discovered this part of himself? Did Zoro feel threatened now? 

Did he regret confiding in Sanji? Had this somehow come between them?

“Shit,” Sanji sat up straight and slapped his palms against his cheeks a few times. There were no answers to his questions right now, so there was no point in stressing over them. Zoro already said Sanji should ask him when they weren’t drunk, and the cook had every intention of doing just that. He planned on cornering the swordsman on the ship, easily done in the galley, and not letting the moss-brain loose until they straightened some things out. Until then, Zoro could do whatever he wanted, and Sanji was going to take a short break from agonizing in that direction. 

Taking a good, long drag, Sanji sat back and smiled at the two companions watching him from the table. The cook had been focused on Zoro for the last half hour or so, but not so focused that he hadn’t noticed Roe and Sky practically getting it on right above him. Even now, they seemed interested in what Sanji was thinking, or what he was about to say, but they couldn’t hide the fact that they wanted each other. 

“So,” Sanji grinned mischievously, “How are you gentlemen going to entertain me now that I’ve been left all alone?”

Roe’s lips turned up in a smile that matched Sanji’s. “Thought you’d never ask.”

The two companions stood and shed the rest of their clothes. They did it slowly, pulling piece by piece off each other, revealing clean lines and hard muscle. Then the dance began again. They moved together so fluidly, their bodies seemed almost as one. Sky’s hands slid over Roe with a knowledge that only an old lover would have, and Roe moved against his partner like he had been doing nothing but that his entire life.

Watching the display, feeling the pleasure mounting right in front of him, Sanji realized this was his first time seeing two men together. Not in the sense that it was two men being sexual with each other, he had seen that before. No, this was something different. This was _a couple_ , and actual partnership. Sky and Roe cared about each other—loved each other. The feeling, the _passion_ between them was incredible. The taste it left in the air was delicious, and Sanji couldn’t get enough. 

Sitting there watching the slow grind, the heavy pulse of imitated sex, Sanji felt a wave of desire wash over him that was so intense he almost groaned. Another long drag covered it up. He was so hard it hurt. There was a ball of excitement wound so tight in his gut he almost couldn’t exhale.

Roe must have noticed because he lowered himself to his knees, mere inches from the edge of the table. He tiled his head as Sky came in behind him and started kissing his throat. 

“Sanji,” he said, breathless, “you want us to fuck for you?” 

Sky did not wait for an answer and slid his hand down to grip the brunette’s length. It was perfect and pink, thick, the perfect size for Sky’s palm. Roe’s eyes rolled back and his jaw dropped into a soft _ah!_ of pleasure as the blond jerked him off slowly.

“Come on,” Roe panted, “let us do this for you. Let us show you what it can be like.”

Sanji took one last drag off his cigarette and then crushed the butt in the ash tray. There was no hesitation when he looked back up at the companions.

“Hell yes.”

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings For This Chapter:
> 
> 1) There is a chunk of SanjixZoro towards the end. (My blood is actually boiling in response to the fact that I have to make this a warning, but there it is. In short, I. Don't. Care. If. You. Don't. Like. Sanzo. It's important to the narrative in this story and there will be a nice chunk of Zosan in the last chapter so Deal With It.)
> 
> 2) Zoro and Sanji say fuck a lot. Like, a LOT.
> 
> 3) I may have messed with canon timeline a bit. I'm not actually sure.
> 
> 4) Drunk dialogue.

Rough hands moved over soft skin; chapped lips pressed on the lightly stubbled underside of a jaw. Muscles rippled slowly beneath tanned thighs as they rolled against slender, pale hips. Words, whispered between panting breaths, tumbled over the shell of an ear as fingers threaded through sweaty, dark hair.

Sanji had not moved from his seat on the wide couch since he had returned from the impromptu tour with Roe. He still reclined against the same cushions, still leaned his elbow on the same armrest. Nothing had changed. He was still in the same place.

But then again, everything had changed, and the cook was in another world.

Roe’s hands gripped the edge of the table a mere few inches from where Sanji’s ankle rested on his opposite knee. The companion lay on his back, his legs wound tightly around Sky’s waist, and he was breathing in soft, broken gasps into his lover’s mouth.

Sky was the one speaking, whispering what could only be described as sweet nothings against trembling lips. Sanji had heard every one of the phrases before—had even said some of them to a girl here or there at some point, but he had never said them like Sky said them to Roe. No, he had never meant them. Never in his life had Sanji heard anyone say those things with such reverence, such love, and the difference could have been measured in universes.

This was what it was like to be with someone you loved.

The dancers weren’t even doing anything that erotic, they were just rocking together, Sky’s cock sliding in and out of Roe’s body at a slow, sensual pace. He palmed at Roe’s length on and off, but it was like the brunette didn’t even need it. The tension in the air was tangible, the intensity of their lovemaking— _holy shit that’s what it was, wasn’t it_ —bled out from their bodies, driving up the temperature in the room, making Sanji shiver even as sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down the back of his neck. It was heady, tantric.

Sanji couldn’t look away, and he almost couldn’t breathe.

Would he ever find something like this? Was he even _worthy_ of something like this? God, what would it be like to have Zoro like this? To listen to the swordsman’s hitching breath as that amazing body wrapped around him? To feel that dark skin sliding against his so slowly it was almost painful? Shit. To be balls deep in Zoro as that fucking beautiful, green-haired, bastard ran his tongue up his throat? Could there be anything better than that? All Blue, maybe. Maybe not. Was it possible?

Roe let out a breathy moan and slid his hands up and over Sky’s shoulders. He cupped the back of the blond’s head and spoke so softly Sanji almost didn’t hear him.

“ _I’m gonna come…_ ” 

Sky’s arms started to tremble as he held himself over the other man’s body. His hips still moved slowly, but there might have been a bit more force in his thrusts. 

“ _Wait,_ ” he breathed, his voice breaking under the strain of his pleasure, “ _Wait for me, I’m so close… Please, baby, wait for me…_ ”

Sanji’s stomach did a little flip and his cock jumped. He was already so turned on he wasn’t sure if he could take much more.

And then he heard Zoro’s voice in the back of his mind. A gasping, growling, Zoro, whispering words against Sanji’s own lips.

“ _Sanji… Sanji… I’m gonna come…_ ”

The cook shuddered, his loins tightened deliciously, and he did the only thing he could think of. 

He lifted his glass and polished off the last of the whiskey.

* * *

Edgar’s back was warm and slick against Zoro’s chest. The boy’s breath had finally slowed and evened out a while ago, but both he and Zoro were too comfortable to move. The swordsman lay staring at the ceiling, wondering how after having sex four times in the last few hours, and drinking three bottles of what was probably ludicrously expensive whiskey, he was almost ready to go again. He was young, yes, but hell, there was virile and then there was just fucking ridiculous.

Edgar stretched on top of him and turned his head to nuzzle his nose under Zoro’s chin. When he did, that smell invaded the swordsman’s senses. That smell of cigarettes and smoke from a fire and toast and aftershave and Zoro felt himself getting hard again—

He gently rolled Edgar off him and kissed the skin between the companion’s shoulder blades as an apology. He felt ashamed, not because of anything he had done with this kid that looked like he might be younger than Luffy, but because while that kid had been riding him like his very life depended on it, Zoro had pressed his face into that soft, blond hair, inhaled that familiar, smoky scent, and had come so hard he had definitely forgotten how to breathe for longer than was probably good for him. Now, he was smelling that scent again and would pound this companion into the mattress if he didn’t get up and go now.

Not that Edgar wouldn’t mind being pounded into the mattress, no, Zoro was pretty sure he would love that. It was the principle of the thing. He couldn’t stomach fucking prostitutes while he actively thought about Sanji the entire time. Yeah, it had been in the back of his mind for months, and yeah let’s not forget Christian and all that shit, but come on. That was just fucked up. Zoro was fucked up.

He knew he was fucked up. 

And drunk. Really drunk. 

Standing, Zoro found the floor tilted towards the window. He hadn’t remembered it tilting that far when he had entered. Then again, Edgar had been ripping off his clothes and climbing him like ship’s rigging so maybe he just hadn’t noticed? 

“Hey, sexy,” Zoro grunted— _shit did he just actually say that? Sounds so fucking stupid_ —"Where’d y’throw my clothes?”

Edgar giggled into a pillow and pointed to the floor by Zoro’s feet.

“Hn, thanks,” Zoro mumbled and went to work. Did shirts usually have so many holes in them? Which one did his head go through?

He stumbled out of the room, buttoning his pants. His boots had never come off, thankfully, he wouldn’t have been able to figure those out on his own. He looked right and then left, not sure which direction he needed to go to get back to the lounge, but not really caring either. If he got a little turned around it would give him some time to regain his composure. Wouldn’t do to come back in and have the cook see him falling all over himself. He would be hearing about it for weeks if he did.

He trailed his fingers along the wall as he made his way towards a lamp fixture he thought he remembered. He breathed deeply, ignoring the various noises coming from different rooms, focusing on his heartrate and thinking about drills his sensei had taught him to improve clarity. It wasn’t really helping, but it made Zoro feel like he was regaining some sense of control. Damnit, why was he going back to the lounge again? He could have just stayed the night with Edgar. He could have been sleeping right now.

No, no… Edgar smelled like Sanji, and Zoro needed to get away because Sanji’s smell was apparently a very dangerous aphrodisiac. He might actually die from all the sex that Sanji’s smell would make him have. At the very least he would cripple poor Edgar.

The lounge door was closed but Zoro knew he was in the right place. There were letters written in flowery script that spelled out _Blue Room_ on the door about eye level. He remembered snickering at this earlier that evening, but he couldn’t remember why. He fumbled with the handle and slipped inside.

The room was hot.

It took Zoro a minute to process what was happening and why the temperature had increased so much since he had left, but when he finally did, he was impressed, to say the least.

The dancers, Sky and that other one, the dark haired one, were fucking on the table. They were going at it slow and hard, looking into each other’s eyes, gasping into each other’s mouths. It was sexy as hell, mostly because they were so into each other. Even completely blitzed Zoro could see there was more than just years and friendship and working relations between the two of them. There was _love_ and _trust_. 

Shit, if he could have Sanji like that, just once…

Speaking of Sanji, the cook was sitting in his same spot, his empty glass hanging from his fingers. A cigarette sat precariously between his lips, and those blue eyes watched the companions lazily, not noticing that Zoro had come back and was watching him in turn. 

He was so fucking beautiful.

Zoro’s stomach rolled, not with nausea like he would have expected after as much alcohol as he had ingested, but with something like grief. How could he even entertain a thought like making love— _pppfft, making love, that sounds so stupid _—making… slow, gentle, _passionate_ sex with Sanji? Maybe if Zoro played his cards right, they’d fuck someday. Maybe. If he could not screw things up, or at least not screw things up too badly, maybe someday Sanji would let Zoro suck him off. Maybe, if there was a god, and he or she wasn’t too terribly angry at the swordsman for not believing in them, Zoro could kiss Sanji. Just once. That would be…__

__Sanji’s gaze slid from the companions on the table and met Zoro’s eyes. The swordsman held his breath, waiting for the cook to look away or wave him off or whatever, but to his complete and utter astonishment none of those things happened. Sanji carefully set his glass down, took a long drag from his cigarette, and then beckoned to Zoro with one slender finger._ _

__Time stopped and the floor did that strange tilting thing again._ _

__What did this mean?_ _

__When Zoro didn’t budge, Sanji beckoned again, this time with his whole hand. He looked like he was getting impatient so Zoro, against his better judgement, moved. He stepped carefully around the table, not even sparing a glance at the amazing display going on only inches from where he stood, and slid onto the opposite end of the couch. His eyes never left Sanji’s face._ _

__“Marimo,” Sanji said softly, his speech was slow and thick. The cook was drunk too._ _

__Not knowing exactly what to say, Zoro replied simply, “Shit-cook.”_ _

__Sanji actually chuckled, and then turned back to watch the dancers. “You made it just in time.”_ _

__He had. The swordsman could hear the dark-haired one starting to keen, and the blond was grunting softly, whispering breathlessly against the other man’s lips. It was intoxicating, probably one of the sexiest things Zoro would ever get the chance to see._ _

__However, Zoro spared them only a quick glance before letting his eyes drift back to Sanji’s face. The cook was sucking on the cigarette again, cheeks hollowed and lips pursed. Then he did that sexy thing where he pulled the stick from his mouth and breathed in deeper, bearing his teeth before letting it all out in a slow, thin stream._ _

__Zoro wanted nothing else but to simply watch the cook. He just wanted to be there in that space while the tension mounted and peaked and the sound of the companions coming would shatter everything entirely. He wanted to see Sanji’s reaction, wanted to feel it when that tension finally broke and caused the cook’s arousal to flare brighter._ _

__He was a few feet from where Sanji sat but he could still clearly see those lines of sweat running from that jaw down to slip below a starched collar._ _

__Okay, Zoro changed his mind. What he really wanted was to lick the sweat off that pale skin._ _

__Any moment now, Zoro knew that Sanji was going to reach his limit. He would turn to the swordsman and growl at him for being a creep. Or he would bark at him for being awkward or distracting or something like that. There was no way Zoro was getting away with this._ _

__But again, Zoro was surprised. Sanji obviously knew he was being watched, but he said nothing, did nothing. He continued to watch the companions and let the swordsman watch him._ _

__Shit, Zoro thought. What had he gotten himself into? He should have just stayed upstairs with Edgar._ _

____

* * *

Sanji was aware that he was drunk. Very, very drunk. He was also aware that despite Roe and Sky’s display being one of the hottest things he had ever seen, Zoro had no interest in it. He could feel the swordsman’s eyes on him, obvious, and penetrating. The bastard wasn’t even trying to be discrete.

If this had happened a few days ago, hell, if this had happened earlier tonight, Sanji would have been out of his mind with anxiety, and with questions. But as it happened, the alcohol, the heat of the room, the smell of sex in the air, and the sensual, beautiful, amazingly intense display in front of them occupied Sanji’s mind and provided just the right amount of distraction. He was so focused in the moment, and so turned on that he just… let it happen. What was the point of fighting it? Why ruin a good thing?

Sky was coming finally, hitching a ride on the last few waves of Roe’s climax. The two of them moaned and panted as Sky shuddered and stilled over Roe’s body. Sanji’s heart ached at the sight, his cock throbbed, his mouth was already dry but he swallowed against it because, well, what else was he going to do?

* * *

Zoro watched the cook shiver as the dancers slowly came back to themselves. He could hear them kissing, murmuring softly to each other as they caught their breath. When they parted and slid down off the table, Sky said something snarky and Sanji laughed. The brunette talked softly with Sanji and the two teased each other as the companion slipped his pants on and moved to sit on the arm of the couch. He looked tired but thoroughly fucked in the best way.

“Sky and I are going to go clean up real fast,” he said. “Is there anything we can get you two?”

Sanji smiled. “We could all probably use some water.” 

Finding this incredibly funny for some reason, Zoro turned his head and snickered into the couch cushions.

“Yes, water, we can do that,” Sky murmured softly.

“Anything else?” the brunette asked. “You want us to… take our time, maybe? Give you two a few, uh, minutes?”

That made Zoro lift his head. The companion had a peculiar look on his face, and his eyes were trained on him, not Sanji. That was odd. But he was too drunk to be able to make sense of any underlying meanings, so Zoro chose to ignore this and reposition himself on the couch instead. He ended up sprawled with his back resting on the armrest, and his feet crossed a few inches from Sanji’s thigh. 

“Take all the time you need,” Sanji chuckled, “We’ve worked you kind of hard tonight.”

“Don’t be silly,” the companion grinned, “It’s not work if you’re enjoying yourself.”

Then to Zoro’s horror, the brunette leaned down and pressed his lips to Sanji’s. It was a simple kiss, soft and chaste, but that was not the point. For some stupid reason, Zoro was sure this companion was doing this solely because he knew about Zoro’s obsession and was taunting him. It was ludicrous, but at that moment the swordsman was absolutely positive. He was about to sit up and tell the pretty, dark-eyed, menace to get the hell out if he wanted to stay pretty, but Sanji chose that moment to reach up and slide his fingers through dark hair. 

Now embarrassed on top of being horrified, Zoro backed down and resigned himself to wallow in his own drunken misery. No matter how much it bothered him, he had no right to say anything if Sanji wanted it. 

“You were… really great tonight, Roe,” Sanji’s said when they parted. His words came slowly as if he had to think about them for a few moments before trying them out. “You too, Sky. Thank you both.” His voice had gained that rough edge reserved for fights and low-lit rooms. Zoro fucking loved that edge.

“We’ll take our time, but we will come back.”

Zoro was back to being confused. Why did this companion—this Roe—think they wanted to be alone? Zoro did of course, but why would he think Sanji would be okay with that?

“All right, we’ll see you later then.”

Zoro didn’t even have the capacity to ponder what was happening anymore. It was obvious he was dreaming. You know what then? Fine. Bring it on, dream Sanji.

* * *

Sanji was silent for the few moments after the door closed, then he turned and looked at the swordsman lounging next to him. Zoro was completely wasted, but he seemed relaxed enough. Apparently, Edgar had done well working the rest of that tension out.

“So,” the cook said, “funny thing: earlier when I asked you to explain yourself, you said you were too drunk. Now, we have the perfect opportunity to hash things out and we’re both three sheets to the fucking wind.”

Zoro cocked his head to the side. “Wha-the hell duhz that even mean?”

Sanji grinned. “Never mind.”

“Meh,” Zoro adjusted himself once more, uncrossing his legs and then crossing them again the opposite way. “H’ad a good time?”

“Yes,” Sanji nodded.

“I don’t unnerstand how you… do that.”

The cook’s eyebrows lowered. His brain was pretty fuzzy so trying to figure out what Zoro meant was like wading through bog water. Figuratively of course. He wasn’t physically moving anywhere for a while.

“Do what?”

“Watch… that and then… do nothin’. I mean, I get _how_ you do it, I just don-understand _why_.”

Sanji chuckled and then surprised himself with an honest answer.

“This shit’s still new to me. I’m getting better at being okay with it, but the whole thing still makes me… kind of nervous.”

Zoro’s face was thoughtful as he sat looking at Sanji. His eyebrows came together as his fingers lifted to scratch at his neck.

“Nervous… sex nervous?”

The smile that pulled at Sanji’s lips could not be contained. “Shut up. You know what I mean.”

Zoro nodded. “I… unnerstand.”

For some reason Sanji’s heart fluttered.

“Yeah?”

Zoro nodded slowly. “I don-ussually care what people think of me—”

“—Well, that’s obvious.”

“Ssshutup. I’m trynna sound all wise and shit.”

Chuckling, Sanji took another drag and watched Zoro try to hide a smile behind his fingertips.

“I don-care what people think of me… mossof the time. They don-like how I look er how I fight, I don-fucking care. But when it comes to thiss…” Zoro swallowed, and his eyes went dark and far away. “No one’s ever actually… giv’n me a hard time. Iss always been juss me, I giv’ myself a hard time. But ‘cause no one talked about it when I’s young, I felt it was _wrong_. I fellike it was a test. Something that I had’ta fight or it was gonna make me less than… what I could be. Blacken my soul… or whatever.”

He paused again, fingering at his eyelid. “Never mind, I dunno… ‘m fukin’ drunk. I don’t know how to explain it.”

A tightening in Sanji’s chest had stopped the cook’s breathing. He ached suddenly, his heart hurting for Zoro and for what Zoro had to have gone through. The swordsman’s words _“I give myself a hard time”_ echoed through his mind, opening doors that he thought were locked tight, or didn’t even exist at all.

Then another thought struck the cook: Zoro seemed to be more inclined to talk the drunker he got. That was interesting, Sanji had never noticed that before.

“You seem to do philosophical conversations just fine while drunk.” 

Zoro’s smile returned. He pulled his gaze away from whatever he was remembering and turned back to look at Sanji.

“I’m not asstupid as you think I am.”

There was something in the way the swordsman said those words that caused pain to tear itself through Sanji’s chest. The ache in his heart multiplied tenfold as the cook was reminded of just how little Zoro thought of him.

“I don’t…” he said softly, trailing off. The alcohol had slowed his speech, but the sudden despair he felt made it impossible to speak at all. 

Zoro eyed him sideways and cocked an eyebrow. “Did I juss make you feel bad by making you think you made me feel bad?”

“I can’t make sense of that sentence,” Sanji murmured, rubbing at his eyes. 

The room was quiet for a long stretch of moments. Sanji felt the tension rising, unwarranted and unwanted. Damnit, he was making things awkward and he had no idea how to fix it.

Finally, Zoro spoke. 

“Okay,” he said softly and shifted. He sat up and moved sluggishly across the couch to sit on the cushion next to Sanji. He rested his elbow on the back and held his head up with the heel of his palm. 

“I’m just gonna be straight with you for a second—”

“—Really? Here in a male brothel? I don’t think so.”

Sanji expected Zoro to bark at him for interrupting again but the swordsman just laughed.

“Okay, okay,” Zoro smiled, “that wass funny.”

Wow, Zoro was smiling at him.

“Thanks. Now, what were you saying?”

Zoro sighed. “I’m gonna try’n clear the air so promise you won’t interrupt for like, a minute.”

“I can’t go a whole minute,” Sanji smirked. “I’ll give you thirty seconds.”

“Okay fine,” the swordsman swallowed, paused as if coming to a precipice and realizing it was a much higher drop than he had anticipated. “I-don-hate-you-okay?” he said suddenly, the words coming out in a rush so that they all bled together. Sanji stared at him, wide eyed, unsure if the words had even been said at all.

“W… what?”

“I know you think I hate you, but I don’t,” Zoro repeated. “I might even like you a bit. You’re annoying ass hell and you dress like a fucking peacock but you’re not a bad person.”

He seemed to be waiting for Sanji to explode because of the “peacock” comment, but Sanji held it in and when he said nothing, Zoro continued.

“I like that your fighting style comp… hm… is like mine. And both of us…” he hesitated, just for just a moment. 

“I would die for Luffy, and’m pretty sure that you would too.”

Zoro wasn’t looking at him but Sanji nodded anyway, heart pounding.

“You piss m’off,” the swordsman said, his voice growing quieter. “You piss m’off every fuckin’ day, s’metimes I don-even know why. But you’re brave’s hell and a damn fine cook n…” he trailed off again, sighing heavily before he spoke again. “Sucks for me, cause you’re also, like, a-hunerd percent my type.”

Sanji felt like his whole body was on fire. It took every ounce of his already depleted self-control to stay silent as Zoro continued.

“The sshit with Chrisstian, yeah he looked like you n’ stuff but… I mean I wassn’t tryin’ to…” 

The swordsman seemed to struggle with something for a few seconds and it was all Sanji could do to stay quiet.

“There he wass n’ you juss happ’n t’look like each other, an I juss wanted to get it out of my sysstum. An then he saw’n opp… opp… a chance to fuck with our heads n’ took it. So don’t… don-fuckin’ worry about that shit. Don-make it out t’be more than it was.”

Disappointment welled in Sanji’s chest, but he only had a few moments to feel it before Zoro continued.

“Okay, that bein’ said,” the swordsman stopped and sighed heavily, “You’re a fuckin’, walkin’ tease. You’re a goddam fantassy come to life. I mean… with th’shit-eating grin n’ how you cut down guys ten times your size n’ _you’re so f’ckin’ flexssible_ … Iss juss impossible not t’ think about it s’metimes. N’ now that you’re tryin… exp… doing new stuff—my’kina stuff… M’sry but I juss don-think I c’n deal withit ‘nymore.” 

The words were out of Sanji’s mouth before he could even think about it.

“Don’t apologize.”

Zoro’s eyes opened and he fixed Sanji with an unreadable look.

Sanji’s heart was pounding against his ribcage and he tried to smile under all his trembling and found it was easier than he thought.

“You just complimented me in the most amazing way so don’t ruin it all by apologizing for it.”

Two dark eyebrows rose, drunkenly. 

“Y’took that ass a complement?”

“How else would I take it?”

“I d’know,” Zoro said, “badly.”

Okay, Sanji deserved that. He wasn’t known for keeping his cool around the swordsman so Zoro’s fears were warranted.

There were many questions the cook wanted to ask. So many unspoken things sat on the tip of his tongue, waiting to slip out and cross lines that had been made without anyone ever drawing them. He wanted to ask every single one, screw the lines, bring on whatever consequences they produced. He wanted them. He could handle them.

Instead Sanji returned to the conversation they had dropped earlier.

“So, what you said before, about feeling responsible?”

Zoro made some sort of noise in the back of his throat and lowered his head to the back of the couch. He looked unbelievably tired in that moment, like the world had just dumped an ocean of problems on his shoulders.

“I am ressponsible, no matter how y’look at it,” he growled. “The reasson it bothers me ‘s that sometimes I wonner if I did it n’ purpose.”

“What?”

“Like I trieda ssteer you towards it t’make you more like… what I want? I d’know, _shit_ I sound crazy.”

“You don’t sound crazy,” Sanji said quickly. “You sound… like—”

“—Like I’m obsessed? Like m’ really fuk’in attracted to you? Like I _want you?_ Yes.”

Sanji couldn’t make his mouth move. His mind was blank with shock. Those simple, unbelievable words hung in the air between them, said almost offhandedly by a Zoro that was so pumped full of alcohol he was probably a fire hazard. The cook couldn’t believe it. The damn swordsman had just opened himself up and made himself the most vulnerable target possible in the eyes of his one and only rival. 

What was Sanji supposed to do with that? It’s not like Zoro had just handed him his heart, but he had given over his pride, and with Zoro it was quite possible that was a much more valuable gift.

And it was a gift, Sanji was sure of that.

Shifting, Sanji turned his body to face the other man’s. He put an arm up on the back of the couch and studied the deep lines in Zoro’s brow. He hated that he was the one who had put those there, and he hated that he was the one that had caused so much uncertainty and discourse in the swordsman’s soul.

“Zoro,” he said, almost in a whisper.

Dark eyes opened and looked at him, hazy with drink, but calm and unexpectant.

Sanji took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“What do you want from me?”

* * *

Zoro’s guts did a weird flip thing. He was already sick from all the honesty, it wasn’t like he needed more to stress out about. He was such an idiot. Why had he just given all the ammo and advantage over to Sanji the fucking Love-Cook? He had to be some kind of masochist or pain slave or something because this just didn’t make any sense at all.

What did he want? Well, okay, there was a lot that he wanted. He wanted to lick every inch of the stupid cook’s skin. He wanted to shut that voice up with his cock and shove himself down that long throat. He wanted to ride Sanji’s dick until they both bled. He wanted to leave bite marks on Sanji’s back that didn’t go away for months…

…but he also wanted to wake up in the morning with blond hair tickling his nose. He wanted to get a sundae with all the frilly trimmings like nuts and whipped crème like he girls did. He wanted to drink and play cards in the boy’s bunk and look into blue eyes that were kind and filled with laughter. He wanted to hold hands on _Sunny’s_ deck and watch the moon—shit, shit, _shit!_

Zoro was fucked, he was _so fucked._

Steeling it all away before a panic attack could make things even worse, Zoro sighed and shook his head.

“I d’know.”

That was such a copout but what was he supposed to say?

His stomach did another flip as Sanji shifted closer and brought his face so close to Zoro’s that he could feel the warm breath against his cheeks.

“If we’re really being straight with each other right now,” Sanji said in that dick-teasing baritone, “there’s probably a few things I need to say too.”

Zoro took a deep breath and tried to will his mouth to close on his next words, but they came out maddeningly clear, and pathetically slow.

“If those things ‘r bout how much y’want me to suck your cock, I’ll listen. If not, I d’wanna hear ‘em.”

Sanji laughed. Not, just a quick chuckle at Zoro’s crassness or some kind of condescending snort, but a real laugh, straight from his belly. The cook threw back his head and bellowed at the ceiling for a few seconds before he brought himself close again. His forehead almost touched Zoro’s as he smiled wide and ran his fingers over the swordsman’s jaw.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Marimo.”

Zoro wasn’t sure what to say, or do for that matter. The sensation of Sanji’s fingers on his skin was sending shivers rocketing down his spine, and that goddamn smile was tearing him apart. To his complete and utter dismay, his dick filled and pressed hard against the inside of his pants. Fucking great, that was just what he needed.

“Cook, if you’re fucking with me—”

“—I’m not right now, but I want to.”

Zoro wasn’t sure how long his breathing completely stopped before Sanji slapped gently at his cheek. It’s not like he had a choice. There was no air in the room. No more air at all anywhere. He was dead, and this was a cruel kind of hell where Sanji demons propositioned him as a joke.

“It just makes sense,” Sanji said once Zoro had let his breath out in a long whoosh. “We’re nakama, we trust each other. We both… want each other. With you I can learn in a safe place.”

“What d’you mean learn? What about Saul?”

“I didn’t fuck Saul,” Sanji chuckled suddenly. “I didn’t realize I was being shifty about that until I saw you get upset over it.”

Swallowing thickly, still not sure that this conversation was even real, Zoro closed the distance between them and rested his forehead against Sanji’s. The realization that Sanji had not yet… that he still hadn’t…

“So we’ve gone t’all these brothl’s and been around all these guyss that would fall allover themsselves at the shance to get fucked by you… and you’ve never...”

Sanji nodded. “Yes.”

“Well, we c’n fix that,” Zoro tilted his chin, ghosting the words across Sanji’s lips. “Right now. You c’n fuck me right here on thiss couch. Less go.”

He felt Sanji’s sharp inhale and was momentarily filled with a sense of overwhelming victory, but then the cook put his hands on Zoro’s cheeks and held him still.

“Not like this,” Sanji said softly. “I want you sober. I want me to be sober. I wanna look you in the eye when you come and know you’re totally there with me.”

Zoro shuddered so hard he teeth rattled. His cock was so hard it hurt. Unable to look into those sharp, blue eyes for another second, Zoro closed his eyes and growled low in his throat.

“Shit… shiiiit. Goddamnit, okay. I need water. Sobering up now.”

Sanji let out another one of those charming belly laughs, and as if their conversation had signaled them, the door opened and Sky and Roe returned.

“Someone say they need water?” Roe’s smile was shit-eating. Zoro wouldn’t have been a bit surprised if he discovered that the two companions had been listening at the door this entire time. 

“We brought coffee too,” Sky said, “and breakfast.”

“Oh my God, breakfast?” Sanji turned around bewildered. “Is it morning already?”

Chuckling, Roe set a tray with a pitcher, a kettle, and several glasses down on the table. “It’s a little after five.” Sky followed suite and started to unload covered dishes and bowls. 

Not particularly hungry, especially after his conversation with Sanji, Zoro was not very interested in eating. However, when the tray covers were removed and the smells of bacon and sausages and pancakes invaded his senses, Zoro thought this was the greatest idea ever. Coffee would help sober him up. The food would soak up the alcohol. 

Maybe they could rent a room at a hotel or something and just hole themselves up for the day. Would Sanji be okay with that? Some shabby room somewhere that was quiet and private where Zoro would let Sanji do literally anything he wanted to him? Shit he would let the cook tie him up and slap him around with a rubber chicken if that was his thing. Dress him up like a panda. Make him bark like a dog or moo like a cow. Just as long as Sanji was going to touch him, put his _mouth on him_. Fuck, Zoro couldn’t think of anything he _wouldn’t_ do. 

The companions entertained them with stories as Sanji drank coffee and Zoro stuffed his face. He wasn’t worried about getting sick. He would be fine as long as he didn’t sleep for a while. The cook gave him sly looks across the table once in a while, but didn’t talk to him or try anything like groping at him underneath the table, which Zoro had been sure he was going to do. 

As the haze of drunkenness began to lift and things started to get clearer, Zoro started to doubt the events of the past few hours. There was no way he had actually blurted out his feelings for Sanji—well, a toned down version of his feelings anyway. There was no way in hell he was going to tell the fucking cook the entire truth. And there was no way Sanji had propositioned him. That was just ridiculous. Zoro had been _really _drunk. It was completely understandable that he had hallucinated everything. Except for Edgar, that had definitely been real. He had the scratches to prove it.__

__At quarter after six, Sanji finally stood and excused them both. Sky and Roe escorted them back to the foyer, but said their goodbyes at the double doors where they had come from the night before. Sanji kissed them both, praising and thanking them for their time and their services. Sky grinned at Zoro and the swordsman gave him a small twitch of his lips and a nod, and then they were gone._ _

__Sanji collected their belli and paid the bill, assuming that Zoro was still too drunk to settle affairs of any kind._ _

__The swordsman was not still drunk, in fact the food and coffee had managed to sober him up quite nicely. It was just he wasn’t sure what to say or how to act. How much of it had been real? What should he do?_ _

__As he stood there contemplating the floor, Sanji moved in close and handed Zoro his swords before he slid his hands in his pockets._ _

__“Feeling okay?” he asked._ _

__Zoro nodded as he returned his weapons back in their place at his hip. “Yeah, feeling good.”_ _

__“That’s good.”_ _

__The tone of the cook’s voice made Zoro lift his head. Sanji was watching him with a small smile, and his eyes were soft and unchallenging._ _

__“Where to?” Sanji asked._ _

__Zoro felt a lump rise into his throat. “What?”_ _

__Sanji chuckled, “I said where to?”_ _

__Understanding, but still unable to completely believe it, Zoro swallowed and said carefully, “I don’t care.”_ _

__Smile widening, Sanji’s head tilted in that charming way, the same way it did when the cook was talking pretty barmaids out of their dresses, and he took a step backward. Zoro knew that tilt, and that sexy drop in his voice very well. He had heard it hundreds of times over the last few months, and oh fuck-him-running it was a million times sexier when it was directed at him._ _

__“I need a bath,” the cook said quietly, “or at least a place to rinse off… join me?”_ _

__Zoro couldn’t get the words out so he merely nodded and followed the cook out the door._ _

____

* * *

They ended up returning to the ship. It just seemed right. The walk had been quiet and comfortable, the silence filled with a strangely wonderful tension. An excitement that neither man could put a name to, or even contemplate fully. They hadn’t planned it, their feet just took them in that direction and before long they were standing at the foot of the dock.

Sanji said nothing and climbed aboard. Zoro followed.

They had no idea who was on watch, or if anyone was on watch at all. Franky had installed safes with locks on them so complicated only himself and Nami could open them. And if anyone tried to steal the ship itself… well, good luck to that poor soul trying to operate the damn thing. There wasn’t really much need for a watchman.

Zoro hoped they were alone. He personally didn’t care if they weren’t, but he was a little anxious as to what Sanji might do if he discovered Luffy, or Chopper, or—god forbid—one of the girls was on the ship with them. 

That thought flew out of his head when Sanji turned to him, still making his way across the deck, and slipped his tie from around his neck.

“Still need that shower,” he said softly.

Zoro felt like a hungry dog being offered steak. He followed Sanji without question through the surveying room and up the ladder. When they reached the bathroom, Sanji pulled off his shirt and kicked off his shoes. He swiftly stripped the rest of his clothing off and moved into the spa. Zoro heard the sudden spray of water and swallowed thickly. Shedding his own clothes, he stepped through the door and watched the cook run his hands through his hair and down his neck. Water cascaded down his pale skin, tracing lines through hard muscle and down long legs. 

He looked up at Zoro, no doubt sensing the swordsman’s hesitancy, or his disbelief, or whatever the hell Zoro was feeling at the moment. He couldn’t decide what it was.

“Come here,” the cook said softly.

Zoro had never felt this way before, and the uncertainty of it made him nervous, wary. Sanji seemed to know just what to do, however, so when strong hands gripped his arm and pulled him under the spray, Zoro didn’t fight it. When the cook turned him around and slid his hand up the swordsman’s back and across his shoulders, Zoro just let it happen. He relaxed into the beat of the hot water and let Sanji work his magic. The cook had always been better at this sort of thing. He was more intuitive, more into the sensuality of the act. Zoro was fine with that and let himself be maneuvered and gently controlled, washed with care and reverence. He already trusted Sanji with his life, it wasn’t that much farther of a stretch to give in and trust the cook with his body and his heart.

“I have a pull-out bed in the galley,” Sanji said as he toweled Zoro’s hair dry, “that okay?”

Zoro nodded, still unable to speak. Would he ever be able to speak again? He didn’t know.

They wrapped towels around their waists and threw their clothes over their shoulders before they made their way back down the ladder. Sanji unlocked the door to the galley and then locked it again behind them, laying his clothes on a chair and dropping the towel in a heap on the floor. Zoro just stood watching, unable to decide his next move. His heart was pounding in his chest, his stomach was tying itself into knots as Sanji moved about his kitchen, completely nude, his hair glowing a golden yellow in the mellow rays of sunlight pouring in through the portholes.

“I sleep here sometimes when breakfast prep keeps me up late,” he said as he pulled out a full-size bed hidden in the couch. “It’s not the most comfortable thing in the world, but it does the job.”

The cook straightened and turned to look at Zoro, a half smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“You gonna stand by the door all day, or are you coming over here?”

Zoro swallowed again, thickly, his mouth had gone completely dry. Still saying nothing, he dropped his clothes and boots on the floor and pulled the towel from his waist. He moved carefully across the room, his fingers ghosting over the dining table as he passed in a vain attempt at steadying himself. 

When he neared Sanji, the cook reached out his hand and pulled Zoro close. His blue eyes were still soft and held the tiniest bit of humor. 

“You haven’t said a word since we left the brothel. Having second thoughts?”

“No,” Zoro managed to choke out. Hell no, there was no goddamn way he was having second thoughts. It would take a monsoon, the entire Navy, and army of sea kings, and the wrath of Nami on a treasure-hunting tirade to get him to back out of this now.

“I just don’t know what to think,” he said.

“Why do you need to be thinking about anything?”

Zoro had only a moment to ponder those words before Sanji’s hands went to his jaw. Strong fingers slid around to the back of his neck and a thumb pressed underneath his chin, tilting his head.

Everything in Zoro’s body pulled tight as Sanji’s lips came a hair’s breadth from his own. The cook inhaled Zoro’s sharp exhale and spoke softly into his mouth.

“Last chance…”

Zoro’s restraint snapped. He was already damned, why hold back?

There was a brief space of time, a blink, one single heartbeat where Zoro thought that this couldn’t be real, there was no way he was this lucky, and then he was kissing Sanji. 

The cook’s lips were soft but chapped, exactly the way Zoro thought they would be. He tasted of coffee, and his tongue was as sly in this as it was when he hurled dirty insults at an enemy or slipped silver-laden compliments into the ear of a lovely woman. Zoro’s hands went to muscled hips, but before he could pull the two of them closer together, Sanji pulled away and was pushing Zoro backward.

“Lie down,” the cook breathed, and Zoro was glad to hear the cook’s voice was as raspy and uneven as he felt himself.

The mattress was firm but in a supportive kind of way. There was a single, blue sheet as cover, and two thin pillows. Sanji had tossed the blanket aside. Zoro lay on his back and rested his head on one of the pillows. He wasn’t sure if this was how the cook wanted him but it seemed like the most obvious option. 

He watched, humming with excitement as Sanji took three bottles from the counter, all of which he had found during the search of his cupboards, and placed them on the lamp stand beside the couch. Then he sat on the edge of the bed next to Zoro’s hip. His eyes had gone a darker shade of blue, and when he caught Zoro’s gaze, the swordsman shuddered helplessly.

Their lips met again, and this time the kiss had heat behind it. Zoro felt the pillow sag next to his head as Sanji leaned over him. He felt fingers sliding around his throat, tilting his jaw, manipulating his movements. Zoro had never surrendered himself like this to anyone before, and was surprised to find it so easy, so natural. His experiences before this had all been fleeting, meaningless encounters with people he didn’t care about, or at least, didn’t care deeply about. There had been no reason to give them this part of himself. He had been holding back, waiting. Waiting for a reason to let himself go.

Sanji was trailing kisses down his jaw, and then his neck. Biting softly at junctions and running his tongue over contours of muscle. Zoro tried desperately not to moan. He could surrender himself to Sanji, because of their bond, because of their trust, but he was not yet ready to let himself break completely open. There would be time for that later. 

At the same moment he reached up to push his fingers through blond hair, Sanji swept his tongue over the tip of his scar. Zoro arched and hissed, pulling roughly at the damp locks at the back of the cook’s head.

“Shit…” he whispered.

“You like that?” Sanji asked.

“No one’s ever tried that before.”

He could feel Sanji’s smile against his skin. “And?”

“Yeah, I like it.”

“Ah,” was all the response Sanji gave him before he shifted, and climbed up onto the bed. He straddled Zoro’s thighs and the swordsman got one quick flash of a mischievous smile before strong thumbs pressed into the sensitive flesh at the edges of the scar, and a hot tongue ran the length of it from center chest all the way up to his shoulder. 

Zoro’s back bowed. White hot pleasure rocketed through him. He could feel it tingling in the tips of his fingers and toes, dancing through his loins, making his cock ache. 

“ _H—holy shit…_ ” he couldn’t breathe. He was losing his mind. 

“I didn’t know you had any feeling in it,” Sanji said.

“I… didn’t either.” He couldn’t decide what to do with his hands, and because he didn’t want to rip Sanji’s hair out, or something equally stupid, he fisted both in the pillow on either side of his head. He had never experienced sensations like these before. The press of Sanji’s thumbs into his scar was painful and exquisite at the same time, and if the feel of the cook’s tongue on his skin was already amazing, then the feel of it on his scar was _unbelievable_. 

Of course, it would be Sanji that brought these new sensations to life. No one in their right mind would have the audacity to do the things that Sanji was doing to him. No one else would have the balls to even _try_.

Abruptly, Sanji’s touch left him, and Zoro opened his eyes in time to see the cook reaching for one of the bottles on the lampstand. He popped the top and poured a small amount of whatever it was into his hand, and then replaced the cap and tossed the bottle. He then rubbed his hands together slowly, and Zoro smelled a sweet smell that made him think of desserts and fruity cocktails. 

“What’s that?”

Sanji grinned. “Coconut flavored body oil.”

Zoro snorted a laugh. “Are you serious?”

Lowering his hands, Sanji returned his touch to Zoro’s chest, this time massaging in small circles at the edges of the scar.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch this thing.”

“Probably as long as I’ve wanted to lick the sweat off your back,” Zoro murmured.

“Hm, that’s fair.”

The cook continued to rub small circles along the outside of the raised flesh, and with every press he left a soft kiss or a teasing swipe of his tongue. Zoro let his head fall back and he growled softly up at the ceiling. He wasn’t used to this kind of treatment, this gentle exploration. Not that Zoro would have let anyone else in the known universe do this to him. It undid him in ways he had never thought were possible, and it was terrifying. Terrifying and exhilarating.

Finally, just as Zoro was about to beg Sanji to stop, the cook’s hands slid to his hips and he felt the blond’s weight shift. A warm hand gently slapped the inside of his thigh, and Zoro obliged, understanding the request. The swordsman spread his legs so Sanji could kneel between them, and before he could adjust himself, that hand was coming around his cock, slick and deft in its touch. 

Zoro made a sound that probably shamed his ancestors, and pushed up on his elbows. He was almost mad with the ache and the pleasure Sanji was coaxing from his body, he almost couldn’t breathe with it, but more than anything, he wanted to see. He wanted to watch as Sanji stroked him, wanted to see his eyes.

Shit, he was so hot. The look Sanji was giving him as he watched Zoro writhe beneath his hands was almost one of reverence. The swordsman couldn’t take it, he wasn’t going to last if Sanji was going to look at him like that, and the last thing he wanted was to come all over himself prematurely while sobbing like a goddamn baby. 

He sat up and propped himself on his hands. He was breathing heavily but he managed to keep his voice under control as he spoke.

“Come on, cook. We gonna pop your cherry, or what?”

Teeth flashed in one of those grins that drove Zoro completely wild. 

“Full disclosure, this is where I get a little lost.”

“What,” Zoro chuckled breathlessly, “you don’t know where to put it?”

Sanji laughed against his mouth. “Don’t be an ass. I understand the basics, I just don’t want to do something that’s going to kill the mood or… hurt you or something.” His voice had gone quiet, like he was nervous. Zoro found he liked that a little and kissed him again, rough and wet, and entirely too short.

“I’ll walk you through it,” he said, lying back. “You have lube in one of those bottles?”

Sanji nodded, reaching for what was left on the lamp stand. “Do I need to um…”

Shit he was cute sometimes. “I said I’ll walk you through it. We’ll go slow.”

“Okay.”

Sanji took instruction well; better than Zoro had ever hoped. It was strange, telling the cook what to do, where to touch— _fuck yeah, just like that_ — and how to move. They had been at such odds only weeks ago, and now here they were, doing this perfect, intimate thing, completely in synch with each other. Zoro setting the pace, and Sanji following in seamless rhythm. 

Zoro began to see how Sanji had gotten so good at so many things. He listened, he understood, and when he got the essentials he took the reins and made it his own. It was fascinating and sexy the way his eyes calculated and the way his jaw set in quiet determination. When he watched Sanji’s hand close around himself, watched as the cook lifted Zoro’s knee and spread his legs wide, the swordsman’s breath caught. Sanji was gentle as he pressed forward, listening to Zoro’s instructions on when to stop and when to start again. By the time he was fully seated, they were both covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and Zoro was panting once again.

“Oh my god,” Sanji whispered.

Zoro was floating in a haze of pain and raw, exquisite, pleasure. His eyes were closed, so when the cook’s fingers traced the line of his jaw, he started. When he opened them, he found Sanji close, watching his face and running his thumb over the line of Zoro’s lips.

It was in that moment, as the cook’s body settled over him, and his blue eyes searched far deeper than either of them would like to admit, that Zoro felt a wave of emotion take hold of him. It was unexpected but only in its timing. Zoro knew that something like this was bound to happen, but he had been sure that it would come after this was over, and he had nothing but the memories of their time together to cling to. 

“Hey,” Sanji whispered, “still with me?”

The cook was trembling, his hand was shaking as it trailed down Zoro’s face. The tenderness in his touch undid the swordsman and he responded the only way he could. With action.

He wrapped his ankles around Sanji’s thighs, and lifted his head to capture the cook’s chapped lips in another one of those rough, wet, kisses.

“Fuck me,” he growled into Sanji’s mouth, “come on.” _Please._ “Gimme all you got.” _I need you._

Sanji groaned and braced himself on his elbow, the opposite hand lowering from Zoro’s face to grip the sheet. He kissed the swordsman’s lips once, softly, and then snapped his hips forward.

Lightening flashed behind Zoro’s eyes.

_Oh god…_

Sanji dug the balls of his feet into the mattress and snapped his hips forward again. Zoro’s breath caught as another lightning bold of pleasure shot through him.

“F— _fuck!_ ” 

The muscles in the cook’s thighs flexed as he moved, rippling on the inside of Zoro’s legs. He snapped his hips forward a third time and made a soft sound of pleasure against Zoro’s lips.

“Ah, goddamn cook,” Zoro heard himself say, “don’t you fucking stop.”

Another powerful thrust forward and pain was synonymous with pleasure. 

“Like I could stop,” Sanji’s voice was still low, just barely above a whisper. “You undo me, you fucking bastard. You fucking sexy son of a bitch.”

Their movements were fluid. Zoro’s hips rose to meet Sanji’s, and the two of them rocked together, breathing each other’s air. Zoro watched Sanji’s face, the way his hair fell across his cheeks and nose, the flush of his pale skin, the line of sweat running from his brow all the way down to his chin. Zoro reached up with both hands and slid his fingers into blond locks. He pushed them back, out of those blue eyes, and shuddered when he discovered the full intensity of Sanji’s gaze.

It had never felt like this before, and Zoro wasn’t sure if it was the effortless power in Sanji’s hips, the strength of his body, or if it was their emotional connection cunningly playing with the strings of his heart. Sex wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be this overwhelming. It wasn’t supposed to make you feel this powerful, or this fucking _complete._

It seemed to go on forever, and Zoro wanted it to never end. Sanji’s pants turned into soft moans of pleasure. Zoro finally closed his eyes and let the feeling take him away. He held on to Sanji’s shoulders and kissed the cook’s mouth, his neck, his forehead. He felt the pressure building, coiling in his muscles, and in his gut. His cock ached with neglected tension as his loins started to tighten up.

“Holy shit,” Sanji breathed, “you’re close, aren’t you? I can feel it.”

Zoro nipped at the cook’s bottom lip and tried to form coherent thoughts. 

“Yeah.”

“What do you want me to do?” Sanji asked, and his movements slowed just a little.

Shit, he was losing it. Zoro was slipping fast, faster than he ever had before. Sanji’s fucking voice and his fucking body, and those goddamn, fucking eyes. Shit… _shit it felt so good._

“Just… harder,” he growled as he nipped at the cook a second time, managing to catch some of that pale neck between his teeth. “ _Try and break me_.”

Sanji did as he was told. He raised himself up on his hands and brought his knees up underneath Zoro’s thighs. This time when he thrust forward, he had leverage. The force of his movements nearly knocked the wind right out of Zoro’s lungs. More of that same white-hot pleasure shot through him and he made a noise through his teeth. He couldn’t hold the noises back anymore. It was time to break open.

One of Sanji’s hands found the back of the couch and that changed the angle to something even more exquisite. His hips pounded into Zoro with a force that was as brutal as it was satisfying. Zoro wrapped his hand around his cock, pumping himself in desperate, uneven jerks. The fingers of his other hand went around Sanji’s wrist. The cook still had one hand fisted in the sheet by the swordsman’s head.

Zoro’s orgasm tightened in his balls, and he tugged on himself roughly as Sanji laid into him. The cook’s gasps of pleasure and fatigue were a symphony on his ears as ecstasy boiled up and spilled over. He pulsed in his hand, spilling warmth over his fingers as bliss coursed through his veins and out to every corner of his body. 

He lost a few moments of time, his vision blackening temporarily before he returned to himself. He was still breathing hard, still throbbing, riding on echoes of his release as he opened his eyes, and found Sanji watching him with eyes wide and lips parted. 

Their movements had slowed to almost nothing, and the cook was looking at him desperately. He was panting heavily as well, sweat beading on his forehead.

“Can I keep going?” Sanji asked.

“Yeah,” was all Zoro could say. He was still coming down and he was sure if he tried to say anything else, he wouldn’t be able to form the words.

Sanji started moving again, and Zoro let go of himself and slid his hands over pale hips to grip a lean but muscled ass. He spread his legs a little wider and lifted his knees. 

“Ah… fuck…” Sanji gasped as he adjusted to the new position. “I’m gonna come. You want me to pull out?”

“Hell no,” Zoro growled, and gripped Sanji’s ass harder. There was a little pain now, but it was worth getting to watch Sanji’s face as he started to lose it.

Expletives started to tumble from Sanji’s lips and the cook froze. Zoro felt the first pulse inside him and shuddered when Sanji dropped his forehead to rest it against his own. The cook gave a few more slow, easy thrusts that drove Zoro almost mad before he finally stilled.

“Holy shit,” Sanji panted. “Holy shit holy shit…”

Feeling loose and completely satisfied with himself, Zoro pushed at the cook’s hips and carefully extricated Sanji from between his thighs. The sharp pain of Sanji’s softening cock leaving his body was startling but it was also sweet, and the swordsman maneuvered that lean body to lie next to him. 

The cook went easily and then lay with his eyes closed, breathing heavily. Zoro propped himself up on his elbow and watched Sanji slide his fingers through his hair and rest his palms on his forehead. He found the action overwhelmingly sexy and leaned in to kiss a few stray beads of sweat off Sanji’s jaw.

“There,” Zoro said softly, “you’ve been educated in the ways of gay sex.”

Sanji laughed and slipped one hand behind his head, the other he let fall to his chest. “Not completely.”

“Oh?” Zoro said, moving his lips down Sanji’s throat. “There something else you want to try?”

The cook lifted his hand and absently ran his fingers into the back of Zoro’s hair. “Of course. You still have to fuck me.”

Zoro stilled. He wasn’t sure if it was Sanji’s words, or the cook’s gentle, intimate touch that had slowed his heart, but he found himself frozen, unable to speak.

He must have been silent and unmoving for too long because Sanji tugged on a strand of his hair and scoffed. “Okay, fine, if you don’t want to—”

“—No no no,” Zoro cut in and adjusted himself so he could look up into Sanji’s face, “Don’t be stupid, of course I want to. I just didn’t think… you’d want to.”

Sanji cocked an eyebrow and smiled at him. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Zoro made a face, “Some guys just don’t… I thought you wouldn’t want… I don’t know, never mind.”

Rolling his eyes, Sanji kissed Zoro’s lips around a smile and sat up. “I can take whatever you can dish out, Marimo. Don’t forget it.”

Zoro snickered at the phrasing and lay back, sleepy and sated. “Okay, love-cook. You can’t get enough of me, I get it.”

His pants hit his face and he heard his boots hit the floor next to the bed. When he pulled the fabric away and looked up, Sanji was there, smiling softly around an unlit cigarette.

“You can sleep here, but you have to put your clothes on. Don’t want to scar the other members of the crew.”

Zoro snorted. “Worried your Nami-san will come in and discover our little secret?”

Sanji turned away and Zoro heard the click of the lighter. “No, I’m more worried about Chopper or Usopp wandering in and going blind.”

Chucking, Zoro sat up and pulled his pants back on.

* * *

The Strawhats left the island before the Marines or anyone of interest caught their scent, and made it back out onto the open sea without damaging too much property and only stealing a few valuables. The crew was in high spirits, excited to be on the move again.

Days passed and Sanji felt himself floating through them in a strange haze, a mixture of contentment and surrealism. He found himself drifting off in the kitchen more than once. One minute he would be chopping vegetables, the next he would catch himself staring out at nothing, thinking of tanned skin and a low, growling voice in his ear. These lapses would range from a few short seconds, to ten, sometimes fifteen minutes. He didn’t mind, he was allowed to do this kind of thing, now that he had nothing to hide. So what if Zoro caught him staring off into space? The swordsman did it too. Sanji had seen him do it only yesterday.

Their rivalry was different now too. They still bickered, still fought, but there was a different motivation to it all now. After an insult was thrown or a foot thoughtlessly shot out to trip up a pair of boots, there was always a hidden smile or a quick flash of teeth between the two of them when no one was looking. They had not been intimate since that morning a few days ago, but their confidence hadn’t changed in the slightest. They were sharing a private joke, a special secret that held them together, even when they were on opposite sides of the ship.

Sanji enjoyed this new, uncharted territory. It was unpredictable and exciting. From where they were, they could go so many different ways, travel down so many different paths. The doors that had been unlocked in Sanji’s mind and heart, had been blown wide open, and he was thrilled and terrified to find out where they all led. 

At the moment, the cook was standing in his kitchen, knife in hand, staring at a space somewhere between the floor and the dining table. He wasn’t seeing anything there in the room, no, he was replaying the sight of Zoro’s jaw clenching and the muscles of his neck flexing as he came, shuddering and shaking against his body. The thought of it still managed to slow Sanji’s heart. The cook had been so overwhelmed by Zoro’s power, his sexuality, that it was still all he saw when he lay his head down at night. Yesterday he had broken into a sweat in the middle of the deck just because he had glanced at Zoro as he lifted weights and was reminded of how the swordsman’s ab muscles had tensed when Sanji had rubbed his thumbs across that scar.

 _I want him again,_ he thought and set down his knife. He rolled his head, trying to work the tension out of his neck. _If we don’t have sex again in the next day or two I’m going to go crazy._

He thought about their last conversation and a pleasant shiver rolled down his spine. Zoro was going to take him next. He was actually going to let Zoro fuck him, and the most amazing part about it all was that Sanji wanted it _so fucking badly_. He couldn’t even begin to—

An alarm went off. 

It wasn’t the usual alarm, the one that buzzed throughout the ship letting the crew know a rival pirate ship or a Marine vessel had been spotted. No, this was something else that Sanji had not experienced yet.

He left the kitchen and moved out to the rail overlooking the lawn deck. Nami was there, and Usopp, and the two of them were looking wide-eyed out at the horizon on the starboard side. 

“What’s happening?” Sanji asked.

Nami turned to him, her lovely eyes were dark and excited, not always a terrific combination with her.

“Hurricane,” she said simply.

“Oh,” Sanji breathed, “that’s all?”

Usopp was shaking next to the navigator. “No no, you don’t get it. This is the biggest hurricane that we’ve ever encountered. It’s even bigger than the one I lassoed and rode from Lilly Island all the way to—”

Sanji cut in, addressing Nami. “It’s far enough away that we can steer clear though, isn’t it?”

Nami shook her head. 

“Shit.”

“We’re doomed,” Usopp wailed.

* * *

Seventeen hours later, the seas were calm, the wind had completely died down, and the entire crew of the _Thousand Sunny_ lay sprawled on the deck, groaning and nursing various minor wounds, bumps, bruises, and more than one severe headache.

“That was the most amazing thing…” Nami said breathlessly.

“You’re amazing, Nami-san!”

“Seriously, I thought we were gonna die.”

“No way, not on my ship. _Ow OW!_ ”

Luffy clapped his hands together from where he hung bonelessly over the railing. “You guys were great! I knew I could count on my crew! We should celebrate making it through the storm by eating lots of meat!”

“I second that. Meat and wine.”

“That’s a really good idea, we all need to eat something. Our bodies need nutrients and lots of water. Everyone’s probably severely dehydrated.”

Sanji sat up slowly, rubbing a sore spot on the back of his head. Chopper had been knocked off the rigging a few hours before, had flown through the air, and the only thing that had stopped him from falling into the sea was the back of Sanji’s skull.

“I got it,” the cook said, “give me a minute to change my clothes and wash up first though.”

The crew cheered tiredly as he got to his feet and headed towards the boy’s cabin. Maybe he would grab a bottle of painkillers too.

Inside the cabin was a disaster. The lockers had been warped and the doors had flown open, dumping their contents out, and then the rocking from the wind and waves had stirred it all up and spread it across the entire floor.

“Oh great,” Sanji murmured, smiling despite the mess. He was enough passed annoyance and anger that everything seemed a little funny. He was also pretty tired.

The door opened behind him and the cook didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Only one person on this ship opened and closed doors like that. He listened to the sound of graceful feet clad in heavy boots moving across the room, and started only a little when hands came around his waist. Warm lips pressed against the skin just below his jaw, and a rough voice growled into his ear.

“Nothing like almost dying to get you in the mood, huh?”

Sanji laughed and let his head fall back against Zoro’s shoulder. The swordsman left open-mouthed kisses down his neck and then pulled his collar away to reach his shoulder.

“It’s not that I’m not completely on board with this idea,” Sanji was grinning around his words, “but I’m expected in the galley in like, five seconds to make food for some of the biggest appetites in the universe.”

“I think my appetite right now would give theirs a run for their money,” Zoro’s voice was muffled as he continued kissing and mouthing down Sanji’s back, pulling the cook’s ruined jacket and shirt off as he went.

Turning, Sanji put his hands on Zoro’s chest and backed him up against the wall of the cabin. He pressed his lips to the swordsman’s, opening his mouth and licking inside to tease at Zoro’s tongue. They wrapped themselves around each other, grabbing onto the thing they both wanted so badly. They had been unable to think of anything else for the past four days, and now that buildup was at its peak. They were threads that had been pulled so tightly they had frayed and were now ready to snap.

“Look,” Sanji said between kisses, “let me put something together for them. I’ll wash up while they’re eating and then slip away. I can meet you in the crow’s nest.”

“You’re gonna make me sit in the galley and watch you cook? Like this? I’ll fucking kill someone.”

“Either that,” Sanji’s lips brushed across Zoro’s temple, “or you go ahead, fuck me in here, and Luffy barges in and starts asking questions.”

Zoro finally slowed and took a few deep breaths. He pulled back and his eyes seemed to clear. “Damnit…” he murmured. “Okay, fine, but you take too long washing up and I’ll come drag you out.”

Sanji laughed. “Deal.”

They separated, reluctantly, and Sanji moved toward the mess looking for his things amongst the clutter of insane items and objects belonging to his crewmates. He spotted a simple yellow button-down and picked it up. His examination found no snags, tears, or mysterious stains, so he slipped it on. A dark blue tie peeked out from under a drawer. He lifted the broken drawer and untangled the tie from the handle.

A flash of gold caught Sanji’s eye and he stopped.

Underneath the drawer was a mess of polishing oils, sharpening tools, and a pair of woven, gold earrings. They were long, meant to dangle from the tip of the earlobe, all the way to the shoulder. Threaded into the gold were small, round beads of varying colors. 

Sanji remembered running his hands over those earrings, finding the beads and rolling them against the pads of his fingers. He would know these earrings anywhere, as he associated them to a moment of profound weakness on his part. They were burned into his memory and Sanji would never forget them as long as he lived.

But why were they here?

Something started to coil in Sanji’s gut. Trepidation, fear, shame. Then when the reality of the situation, and the gravity of what it could actually mean settled over him, white-hot anger flared up from somewhere deep inside him. 

He stood and turned to Zoro, who had his back turned and was rifling through a pile of valuables a few feet from where Sanji was standing.

“Zoro…” Sanji said softly.

“Yeah,” Zoro didn’t stop what he was doing.

The anger flared brighter. “Zoro, look at me.”

Dark eyes glanced at him from over a shoulder and the swordsman straightened and turned around. “What the hell, cook? I’m not…”

Zoro’s face went white as a ghost when he saw what Sanji was holding, dangling from his fingers.

Trope’s earrings.

“What the hell is this?” Sanji asked. His voice was steady, but the look on Zoro’s face confirmed his worst fears. “Why the hell do you have these?”

“Uh…” Zoro took a step forward and put up his hands. “Okay, I can explain—”

“—Was it you?” Sanji interrupted. “That time in the dark?”

There was a little part of Sanji, a very tiny part, that was still holding out hope that this was all a mistake. There was in fact an explanation, and any moment now, Zoro was going to explain why Trope’s earrings were hidden away in one of his private drawers. But then the swordsman dropped his hands, and his face fell. Sanji saw the truth in every line of his face, in the curved way his back hunched. His mistake and his lie stood there between them like a dead, rotting animal. The smell of it thickened the air of the cabin with it’s sweet, sickly, scent.

Anger was all Sanji knew. His head was filled with it. It was beating through his heart.

“You bastard…” he said softly.

“Sanji—”

“Don’t fucking say my name,” Sanji hissed. “I can’t believe…” he dropped the earrings like they were hot, like they had burned his fingers. He backed away and started pacing, his hands going into his hair. The rage and disbelief were building, fighting with his mounting feelings of shame and betrayal.

“I actually felt bad,” he wasn’t looking at Zoro anymore. He couldn’t. “I felt so ashamed that I’d gone there and chosen someone that looked like you. I was so embarrassed… but you…”

“I was going to tell you—”

“—Don’t fucking talk to me!” Sanji roared. “You forfeited your right to say anything! I can’t believe… Oh god, oh fuck. I slept with you… I can’t…” 

Sanji doubled over, his head swimming. Zoro had broken into one of the most private and vulnerable moments of his life, _without him even knowing_ and now he was never going to be able to trust the swordsman ever again. 

He didn’t realize he was crying until the tears fell from his cheeks and slapped against the metal of the drawer at his feet. How had this happened? He had been so happy only minutes ago, and now he was broken. His fucking heart was broken.

Taking a few breaths, Sanji found his equilibrium and was able to straighten again. He lifted his eyes and glanced up to see Zoro leaning against the open lockers, his face a picture of agony. He looked like someone had died and it was his fault.

Even after everything, even after the betrayal and the lies, Sanji still felt sorry for Zoro. He was angry, god he was furious and so fucking hurt, but he also knew that Zoro had not done what he had done out of malice, or some nefarious plan of humiliation.

The cook to several deep breaths before he wiped at his face and tried to speak.

“Just tell me one thing,” at the sound of his voice, Zoro flinched. “Why? Why did you do it?”

Zoro was still looking at a point on the floor a few feet from where Sanji stood. His jaw clenched and unclenched, and his left hand tightened around the hilt of his white sword as if searching for strength, or maybe just comfort.

A few long moments of silence stretched between them. Neither of them moved. They might not have even breathed.

“I’m fucking crazy over you,” Zoro finally said.

Sanji’s broken heart thumped in his chest.

“Not an excuse,” the swordsman continued in a soft, unsteady voice, “but I don’t know what else to say. It happened fast, and I swear I was going to tell you, but then I didn’t.”

He looked up, miserable dark eyes finding Sanji’s and holding them.

“I’m sorry.”

There wasn’t anything else to say. Sanji needed time to think, and Zoro needed to be alone, so the cook sniffed and bent to pick up the tie he had dropped on the floor. When he straightened, he looked back up at Zoro and nodded.

“Stay away from me for a few days,” he said. “We can figure this out later.”

Zoro nodded, his gaze moving away again to stare at that same patch of nothing. When Sanji opened the door, he heard Zoro slide to the floor, but he didn’t look back.

The cook wiped at his face again, and made his way to the galley.

* * *

Sanji and Zoro did not get a chance to figure it out until much, much later.

Not long after Sanji had fed the crew, they had rested and cleaned up most of the damage and debris from the storm, and they were back to their regular routines, they met a mermaid. That mermaid took them on an adventure that led them to the final island in Paradise. An Island which wasn’t an island at all, but a massive mangrove forest. 

In this place, the Strawhats were separated, and Zoro and Sanji did not see each other again for over two years.

 

To Be Continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes:
> 
> The next chapter is the last, and I promise it will end well. You know me, unsatisfying, unhappy endings aren't my thing. I will try and get it done in a reasonable time frame, unlike many of the chapters in this fic har har.
> 
> I (loosely) based Sky and Roe on Sting and Rogue from Fairy Tail. You're welcome.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it. It's finished. Much love to all those who helped beta this monster, also a big thank you to all who took the time to comment and review, even if your comments were more crit then constructive, I still appreciate it.
> 
> Of course, the biggest thank you goes to Sinisterbug. We thought this crazy thing up together and it's been a wild ride ever since. Bug, no matter where I go from here or who I collaborate with in the future, I don't think anything will ever be as much fun as working with you has been. 
> 
> I must say this is bittersweet. I'm so happy to finally be done with this story, but at the same time, I'm very sorry to see it end. 
> 
> Thank you again for reading, please enjoy the last chapter.
> 
> \- Stark
> 
> Warnings for this chapter:  
> 1) I took some timeline and dialogue liberties in the beginning. I don't think it really matters in the grand scheme of things but if it bothers you then I apologize.  
> 2) I forgot that in dealing with the two-year time skip I would also have to deal with Sanji's stupid nose bleeding gag. I admit that it's hilarious in the beginning, but it drags on forever and pisses me the hell off. I decided, for my own sanity, that second major attack after Sunny dives and Chopper hooks him up to all the blood bags is where it stops. (Okay, full disclosure: the part where Chopper is crying and screaming at Sanji not to turn around and look at the mermaid princess or he'll die is pretty funny too.)  
> 3) It ends sweeter than I had planned?

_First Interlude_

The day was warm. Salty sea air blew through a tussle of blond hair and pulled gently at a brown tie. A man, two years older and infinitely wiser than he had been the last time he had stood on this same railing, felt as if he had fallen into a quiet dream. Everything was how he had left it, and yet, everything was completely different because the man himself was different. He was looking at his ship with different eyes, hearing the wind through the folded sails with different ears. His heart beat a slower, steadier rhythm than it had the last time he had felt the dip and rise of the waves beneath this same hull.

Sanji stepped off the railing and landed on the grass of the deck, except it wasn't the grass his shoes sank into. Checking his footing, Sanji marveled at the thick layer of coating jelly. It covered every surface, up the masts, over the sails, there was nothing untouched.

"Wow," he said softly, "this is pretty cool."

He bounced around a little before making his way towards the upper deck. Silver and Shakky had told him that some of the others had already arrived and the cook had been ecstatic at seeing Usopp after all this time (damn that kid was a beast now). Franky was rumored to be on the ship somewhere and Sanji was sure he would run into him before he set out again. Sanji knew _Sunny's_ stores would be low, if not completely depleted, and he was going to have to restock. If he just happened to run into Nami while he was shopping well… that would just make the day that much better wouldn't it? Smiling at the thought of his navigator, and all the ways she had probably "matured" over the last few years, Sanji climbed the stairs. He felt a little light-headed but he figured that was just from all the excitement. 

As he neared the galley door he remembered what else Shakky had told him and he slowed.

Zoro was here too. 

Thinking of the swordsman caused a lot of the muscles in Sanji's stomach to tense up, but the thought train had left the station and there was no stopping it now, no matter how much Sanji didn't want to think about it. If Shakky had noticed his reaction in regards to the mention of Zoro earlier, she had been sweet enough not to say anything. 

Sanji was not looking forward to their reunion for several reasons. The last time he had spoken to Zoro, besides shouting at him from across a battlefield, had been… less than pleasant. There was the possibility that Zoro wanted nothing to do with him anymore. Maybe the swordsman had gotten over his infatuation—or whatever the hell it had been—with Sanji and had moved on. What if he resented Sanji for sleeping with him before turning around and saying all those shitty things? What if Zoro hated him for real now? 

There was also a chance that he had completely forgotten. Sanji hated this particular line of thinking because it depressed the hell out of him, but what if whatever Zoro had felt for him had been so fleeting, so inconsequential, that it was just… gone? What if everything went back to normal? Insults, rivalry, one-upmanship… and Sanji was stuck dealing with all of these feelings that he couldn't even put a name to? 

It was a lot to think about and it weighed heavily on the cook's shoulders.

There was also the fact that Zoro had been on the island ten days already. How the hell he had managed that was a mystery, but the bottom line was: that was two hundred and forty hours the swordsman had spent no doubt getting himself into trouble or lost. Or both. 

Most likely both. 

Granted, Zoro usually found his way to where he needed to be with sheer dumb luck, but there were what, seventy-eight? Seventy-nine groves? Sanji didn't think it very likely the Strawhats would be going anywhere until they were forced into a manhunt to locate their directionally challenged first mate.

The cook sighed and turned the knob on the galley door. He was already dreading the confrontation with the swordsman, and spending time looking for the bastard when they should be setting sail was just going to put everyone in a bad mood.

The galley was dark, and it had a metal, musky scent to it that was empty and sad. However, when Sanji turned on the lights, he was welcomed by a space and the shapes of things so familiar it was like coming home.

_That's because I am coming home._

Emotion welled up in Sanji's chest and he let it take over for a moment before he stepped inside.

* * *

Zoro wanted to fish.

Why? Because he had nothing to do, and sitting around with nothing to do waiting for his crew was starting to wear on him more than Perona's whining, high-pitched voice ever had. His first few days on the island he had trained, and then he had explored. He had even taken up a few odd jobs just to pass the time but now the monotony of the days had all started to bleed together into one endlessly long day-night mush and Zoro was sick of it.

He just wanted to fish. He just wanted something to do with his hands that would keep his mind off how the day the Strawhats were supposed to reunite was close and he would finally, _finally_ get to see his crew again. 

How strange was that? He wanted to see his crew more than anything. If Zoro could have gone back in time to tell his eighteen-year-old self that he would soon meet a group of misfits that he would come to think of as family, Zoro knew his eighteen-year-old self would have punched his current self in the throat. Or he would have tried anyway. It would be a simple thing now to turn his eighteen-year-old self into mincemeat. 

He missed them, more than he would ever say out loud. He had missed Luffy so much. Chopper and his hugs, Usopp and ridiculous stories, Nami and her debts. Brook, Robin, Franky, and even… even Sanji. Sanji and his food and his stupid frilly clothes and his cursing… Zoro had thought about his crew every day for the last two years, but Sanji, well. Zoro had tried not to think about Sanji at all, so of course, that meant he thought about the damn cook once every couple of minutes. 

The last time they had spoken it hadn't gone so well, and Zoro wasn't sure how he felt about seeing Sanji again. He had screwed up and Sanji had reacted better than he had imagined, but the cook had still reacted badly. And he'd had every right to. When they got together again were they going to hash it out finally? Had Sanji forgiven him, even though he didn't really deserve it? Was he still mad? Where exactly did they stand? Were they still rivals? 

Were they friends? 

Would Sanji ever want to be with him again?

All that was unlikely. Friends? Probably not. Lovers? Never again. However, Zoro knew they were still nakama, they would always be nakama. So he could, at the very least, hold out hope that the two of them were still rivals. If that was all he could get well, shit, he would take it.

Shaking his head as if that would clear it, Zoro moved into the fish and tackle shop to speak to the owner about a boat.

* * *

It was just his luck.

Out of all the fish shops in the tourist and shipping groves, Sanji had found the one where Roronoa Zoro had, _of course,_ apparently made one of his unfathomably bad directional miscalculations. 

"Was it this guy?" Sanji asked as he held up Zoro's wanted poster. He kept a roll of the entire crew's posters for reasons he wasn't quite ready to admit, even to himself. 

"Yes! That's him!" the old fisherman said. Sanji had already known, but there was no harm in making sure.

_Mother of God,_ Sanji thought, _He is such an idiot._

"Well," he said out loud as he lit another cigarette, "at least we know where he's headed."

There was a rumble, and voices cried out on the berm to the South of where Sanji and the fisherman stood. Sanji turned to the water and watched with some surprise—but not much—as a galleon surfaced in two pieces. It looked like the ship had been cut in half with a knife.

For some reason, this really didn't surprise Sanji either.

"Oh, never mind," Sanji said softly, "he came back. At least now we don't have to look for him."

The pirates aboard the ship were crying out in anger, flailing their swords in the direction of one of the masts.

A rough voice cut through their cries and Sanji's heart skipped. "Blame your fate. You brought a plague onto your ship."

Sanji looked up, his cigarette hanging from his bottom lip. 

Zoro sat on the main topgallant, one of his swords in hand, looking disgruntled but calm and steady. There was a new scar on his face directly over his left eye. When the swordsman slid that dark sword back into its saya, there was no doubt left in Sanji's mind that it was, in fact, Zoro who had cut the ship in half.

Shit. That was cool.

"I got on the wrong ship…" Zoro muttered matter-of-factly. 

Sanji rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers and tried not to laugh. Or cry. Had he really just thought Zoro was cool?

"Still an idiot, I see."

Zoro heard him and rolled his one eye over to where Sanji was standing. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then he stood and shook the water from his hair.

"Ah, cook," Zoro called out, "finally. Let's get out of here, I'll show you where the ship is." 

Bristling, Sanji watched Zoro as he made his way off the devastated galleon. "Marimo, you wouldn't be able to find _Sunny_ if it was ten feet in front of you!" 

Zoro cocked an eyebrow at him. "Relax, it's like two groves away."

Pulling the cigarette from his mouth and crushing the butt between his fingers, Sanji took a breath. He didn't want to go ape-shit on the swordsman after being back together again for less than a minute.

"No, idiot, it's like twenty groves away."

"Hm, maybe."

God, he was gorgeous. Had Zoro always been this gorgeous? No, his face had filled in, he was taller, wider. His skin was darker and that fucking scar on his face was sexy as hell. His manner had changed as well, the way he stood made him seem relaxed, but Sanji knew the stance. Zoro was actually in a resting fighter's pose. He was literally a string pulled taut, ready to snap and cut you in half at a moment's notice.

_Fuck. Fuuuuck,_ Sanji thought. _I can't stop looking at him._

That eyebrow twitched again and Zoro suddenly looked annoyed. 

"So? Are we going or what?"

Sanji sighed and lit another cigarette to mask the fact that, for a moment, he had actually been stunned into silence. "Gotta get fish and then we'll head out."

The cook was so overwhelmed at Zoro's new physique and his new bearing that he almost didn't notice how easy it had been to fall right back into their old routine.

* * *

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck.

Zoro had been here before. Yes, there was a god, and yes, he or she _hated_ the swordsman with a celestial passion. There just wasn't any other explanation. No one's luck was this bad. Of all the fish shops on the island, how had Sanji managed to wander into this one? Why was he fucking here?

And why, _why_ was he about a billion times hotter than when Zoro had last seen him?

He was taller, they were probably about the same height now, and he was _bigger_. Well, he was still skinny, but shit, he filled out that suite better than anything Zoro had ever seen him in. His hair was longer, and he had a _beard_. His eyes were still that icy blue that Zoro had always loved, but now they had these lines at the corners that made them seem somehow harder? Stronger? Zoro couldn't put his finger on it.

_Shit, I can't stop looking at him._

They were going to have to fight. He was going to have to antagonize Sanji in every way he could think of so he could focus on something other than ripping all the cook's clothes off.

Luckily, Zoro didn't have to try too hard. Sanji seemed to be wound pretty tight, even after two years away from everything. Zoro merely had to mention "Number Seven" a few times and the cook was off. 

Or, more aptly, the cook was _on_.

Zoro didn't know what he was expecting, but the force of Sanji's attacks was not it. The blows were five, maybe ten times as powerful than the last time he had been struck by those polished shoes. Where he had pulled punches and blocked easily before, Zoro found himself having to actively defend himself against a rush of attacks that not only hurt for real, but were also _on fire_.

Zoro had seen Sanji do the lighting-himself-on-fire thing before, but this was something new. Instead of just his foot or his leg, it was his entire body. Holy shit it was almost completely overwhelming. 

When the two of them stepped back to take a breath, Sanji snarled at him from around a cigarette.

"Looks like you improved a bit, you third-rate swordsman."

Wait. Was that… a compliment? Zoro was so taken by surprise that he said the first thing that came into his head without thinking.

"Looks like you learned some new idiotic kicking skills yourself."

Damn, that wasn't what he meant to say. How did Sanji always manage to rile him up so easily?

"I bet your cooking skills have suffered because of it though." _Ah crap._

" _What'd you say, asshole!?_ " Sanji roared.

They would have started in again, damaging property and causing all kinds of chaos that Nami probably would have skinned them alive for later, but the sound of a den den mushi interrupted their argument and all the fight seemed to drain out of Sanji in a mere few seconds.

Zoro waited, his heart hammering as Sanji sat and talked to Franky on the mini communicator. He tried not to watch the roll of the cook's shoulders underneath his jacket; tried not to stare at Sanji's mouth as his lips teased the end of another cigarette. With some difficulty, Zoro managed to tear his one good eye away from the sharp edges of blond hair as they caressed the pale skin of Sanji's neck. 

It was torture.

* * *

Well, one thing was for sure: Luffy was considerably stronger than he had been two years before. Taller, and a little filled out, but other than that, he was exactly the same.

Exactly. Fucking. The same.

There had been a commotion over the rise a few hundred feet from where Sanji and Zoro had been standing. Sanji had gotten a feeling that had proven to be completely spot-on when the two Strawhats discovered their captain in the thick of some Marine-Pacifista-pirate mini-war.

But really though, what had they expected?

Luffy was overjoyed to see them, and both Sanji and Zoro were happy to show off their newfound skills by taking out a Pacifista that happened to be standing in their way. When Chopper showed up riding a giant bird, no one questioned. It was just the way things were with them. Every single day was an adventure, and sometimes the adventure was weird.

The giant bird returned them to their ship, where they were finally reunited with the rest of their crew, and then with cheers of excitement and the merry commands of their captain, Franky inflated the coating jelly, and they dove beneath the surface on their way, at last, to Fishman Island.

_Second Interlude_

Sanji felt strange. That lightheadedness he had felt on his first return to _Sunny_ was back and in full force. Things seemed to be spinning slowly, but his closed eyes were trying to follow things moving behind his eyelids at neck-breaking speeds.

He groaned softly at the dull throbbing in his head and tried to open his eyes.

"Just lie still, cook," a deep voice said softly, "don't want to die before we reach Fishman Island now, do you?"

Sanji froze, his heart slowed. That was Zoro's voice. What happened? Did he get knocked out? Did the fucking swordsman knock him out in the first few hours of being back together? No way, holy shit he was going to _kill somebody!_

"I said lie still, idiot. You've lost a lot of blood."

Blood? Oh, that would explain the dizziness. Had there been a battle? What the hell had happened?

Sanji finally opened his eyes and took in the strange surroundings. He was back on the _Sunny_. Oh yes, they had gone below. That would explain the water and the fish… He was lying on the deck, his arm strapped to a board. Tubes connected from multiple places on his arm up to a tree of blood bags above his head. Damn, he really had been hurt, that was a lot of—

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Zoro said, his voice still soft and emotionless.

Sanji turned and found the swordsman sitting at his side, arms folded and eyes closed, his face stern.

"I didn't think you could get any dumber, but apparently, I was wrong. What kind of asshole has nosebleeds at the sight of women that almost kill him?"

Nosebleeds?

Oh. Oooohhhh. 

"What happened to you?"

Sanji ground his teeth. It was the fucking Hell Island and their stupid perfumes and the goddamned side effects they had warned him about and he hadn't listened to. Fuck, why hadn't he listened?

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Sanji muttered, and Zoro started. His eye opened and he looked at Sanji in surprise. It was as if the swordsman hadn't realized Sanji had been awake and listening. That thought made Sanji pause for a moment. Had Zoro been talking to himself? Had he been talking to Sanji but thought Sanji was unconscious?

"I just spent two years in hell," Sanji continued, "The nosebleeds are a side effect. Yes, I'm fine. No, I don't want to talk about it."

Zoro watched him for another few moments and then nodded, the surprise draining from his face.

"Chopper said you have to lie there until the bags are empty. Luffy brought food so you don't have to worry about that."

Sanji sighed and closed his eyes again. He hated not being able to do his job, he hated being worthless and helpless there on the deck with Zoro watching over him, but goddamnit, in that moment he couldn't find it in himself to care. He felt like shit. He probably could have moved, gotten up and made his way to the galley if he really wanted to, but he hurt. He was tired. There wasn't any point. 

"You…" Zoro started, but the fell silent again.

Sanji cracked one eye open. "What?"

Zoro wasn't looking at him anymore. He was watching something above them in the water.

"You gonna be okay?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sanji scoffed. "You worried about me, Marimo?"

For a moment, Sanji wasn't sure Zoro was going to answer, and that made the cook's heart flutter in his chest. It was suddenly very hard to pull air into his lungs, and Sanji was sure it had nothing to do with the blood loss or how much he hurt or anything like that.

Then Zoro lowered his head and his face returned to that stony, disgruntled setting that seemed his new normal.

"Not really. You die, I get to raid all the wine you have stored away."

Sanji chuckled at that. "Your concern warms my heart. Where are my cigarettes?"

"Chopper said no smoking for a few hours."

"Come on, what are you guys trying to do, kill me?"

* * *

Fishman Island had been another one of the Strawhat's bizarre forays into something that seemed completely unreal once you looked at it in hindsight. They had gone into the depths of the sea, deeper than Sanji had ever dreamed of going. They had met a kraken, encountered a ghost ship, met the King of Ryugu Kingdom, and had seen mermaids. Lots and lots of beautiful mermaids.

They had also managed to get in the middle of a civil war. They had fought the Fishman equivalent of the mob, almost gotten killed—for the what, two-hundredth time?—and saved the princess. Just another Tuesday in the life of the Strawhat Pirates, right?

Now, back aboard the _Sunny_ which was sailing on the surface of the ocean, thankfully, back in his galley doing what he did best, Sanji reflected on the crew's first week all together again. It had been dangerous, terrifying at times, but oddly perfect. What was living without a little danger? How could life be truly fulfilling if you didn't come close to dying a few times a day?

Sanji grabbed a handful of flower from the jar beside him on the counter and sprinkled the powder across his cutting board. The bread dough was smooth and pliant against his fingers as he spread, folded, and spread it out again. 

He couldn't think of being anywhere else, couldn't think of being with anyone else. He loved his crew. He _loved_ them. All of their quirks, all of their shortcomings, all of their fears and endearments and stupid, hilarious antics. The Strawhats were truly his family, all of them.

All of them.

Thoughts of Zoro filtered in through memories of fighting and laughing and Marines and sea kings. Memories of Zoro grinning around a blade. A flash of Zoro's face splattered with blood. The feeling Sanji had felt in his gut when he had seen Zoro fighting Hyouzou.

It was probably time to talk to the swordsman. They had a lot of things they needed to clear up. Sanji still didn't have a good read on Zoro's feelings for him after their two years apart, but he was sure there was something there. It might just be nakamaship or rivalry, but that was something, wasn't it? At the very least they needed to talk about what happened before, he needed to hear Zoro's explanation of that night at the brothel. He wanted to hear the swordsman's reasons for what he did.

Sighing softly, Sanji wrapped the bread dough and set it in a container before sealing it and putting it in the fridge. He washed his hands and rolled the sleeves of his shirt down, buttoning the cuffs carefully. When he picked up his jacket from the back of a chair his heart started to pound in his chest, but when he opened the door to the deck, he was composed with a fresh cigarette hanging from his lips. 

He wouldn't confront Zoro immediately, no. Maybe tonight, or tomorrow morning when he knew the swordsman would be training up in his gym. 

The cook watched the crew as they frolicked on the grass or read their books and magazines on the deck.

Yeah… probably tomorrow morning.

**Chapter 14**

After Fishman Island, any port the Strawhats happened to sail into would have seemed banal. There could have been dancing bears or giant men made out of candy but it still would have seemed inconsequential and ordinary compared to underwater palaces, mermaids, sea kings, and swordsmen with eight tentacle arms.

However, after helping Franky lower the gangplank, Zoro gave the port another cursory glance and concluded that there was probably a picture of this place next to the word "ordinary" in the dictionary.

The _Sunny_ had landed on Null Island after following the log pose for a little less than two days. It hadn't seemed like much when they had checked it out through a spyglass, and now, as the crew disembarked onto the dock, Zoro realized that it still didn't look like much. The sky was clear and blue, but the sunshine did nothing to brighten the colors of the fishmonger stands or tiny shops along the coast. As far as Zoro could see the town was clean and well kept, but shabby in some tired way, like old hand me down clothes that were still intact but hung a little too limp.

Maybe he should just stay on the ship. There was nothing he needed to buy, and it wasn't as if he needed a stretch, they hadn't been on the ship long enough for him to have felt cooped up. He had barely even gotten his sea legs back.

Zoro was about to call out to Luffy that he planned on staying behind when he heard the click of a lighter at his side. He paused for a moment, waiting for the answering click of the lighter closing, and then the familiar rush of an exhale.

"Oi, Marimo."

"Hm?" Zoro grunted almost on instinct.

"Let's get a drink."

Turning, unable to hide the surprise on his face, Zoro regarded the cook with one eyebrow cocked. "You paying?" he asked.

Sanji shrugged, "Sure." 

With that, the blond slipped his hands into his pockets and brushed past Zoro, not briskly, just an easy pass by the swordsman's side, and made his way down to the dock. 

Zoro followed, his stomach tightening into small knots. At that moment, Zoro wasn't sure if what he was feeling was dread or excitement. Maybe it was a little of both, hence the confusion. His mouth was dry and his heart had picked up a less than steady cadence. He knew all those symptoms well: they were side effects of simply being under the cook's radar. 

The two pirates made their way through the port's small and unremarkable market and onto Main Street. Here the shops and stalls were a bit more bustling but still had that second-hand feel to them. Sanji stopped once or twice to appraise the produce and by the look on his face, it seemed to Zoro that it was all edible, but like the town, it was unimpressive.

They stopped at a tavern at the end of a long street. The place was dark but the sign read "Open". An old man was sitting on a crate beside the front door smoking a pipe. He eyed the two younger men as they nodded to him and entered the establishment, but he said nothing. Inside it was brighter than it had seemed from the street, but not a lot. Thick curtains hung over the windows, blocking light from a few lanterns hanging over a half dozen tables and a large electric lamp set up along the cabinet behind the bar. The place was dead, as Zoro had expected of a place like this at two o'clock in the afternoon. There was only one other patron sitting at the bar, and the bartender.

Sanji motioned to the table at the back of the room and headed to the bar to order drinks. Zoro ignored the fluttering in his chest and moved to sit where Sanji had indicated. He took his swords from his belt and laid them on the table to the side, and claimed the chair that had a good view of both the door and the bar. Sanji could take the one that watched the door and the window.

He sat for a minute thinking this might be one of the dumbest things he had ever done, and that was saying a lot. This could go a lot of different ways and most of them were really bad. There was a possibility that he and Sanji could talk like adults, work through whatever it was that they needed to work through, but it just wasn't very likely. He and Sanji had a history of settling differences loudly and violently. Oh, Zoro knew the two of them would definitely work things out in some form or another, but he also knew that by the end of the afternoon, this tavern would probably be needing several thousand beli worth of repairs, and Nami would have two new pairs of shoes made out of their hides.

A large mug appeared in front of Zoro and the swordsman was pulled from his musings.

"You look lost in thought," Sanji said. "Not surprising, since you can get lost literally anywhere."

The cook set his own drink on the table and sat, pulling his cigarette pack from his pocket and tapping one out into his fingers. Zoro watched the flick of the lighter and then the flame lick the end of the cigarette between Sanji's lips without saying anything. Surprisingly, Sanji's words hadn't sparked the usual hostility and Zoro couldn't really decide on why.

Sanji grabbed an ashtray from an adjacent table and took a sip from his drink before turning sideways and leaning against the wall. He lifted a leg, settled his ankle on the opposite knee, and regarded Zoro from around the curtain of his shaggy, blond hair. He seemed calm, collected in a way that Zoro himself did not feel. It wasn't necessarily how the cook felt on the inside—Zoro could testify to that no problem, his heart was now running a mile a minute even though his outside was stony—but the possibility that Sanji had control over his emotions while Zoro himself was hurling faster and faster into an emotional wreck was frustrating.

"You wanna start, or should I?" Sanji asked quietly. "Or should we just stare at each other for a while longer?"

Zoro rolled his eye and grabbed the mug—stein—shit, whatever this glass was called it was huge—and took a long swallow.

"I could stare at you some more if you want."

At that, Sanji grinned, and Zoro was relieved to see it. 

"Flattery will get you almost everywhere."

Zoro smiled into his drink and thought about how to say the things sitting on the tip of his tongue. He had played this conversation in his head a few—okay, maybe a hundred—times over the last two years, but not once had he predicted that it would start out on this amicable a foot. He didn't know to begin this way.

"I…" he started, and then took another long swallow. Crap, this was harder than he had imagined. And he had imagined it being pretty hard.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Zoro set the beer down and leaned his elbows on the table. He clasped his hands together and spoke staring at his fingers. His heart was pounding again.

"I can't talk circles around people like you do. I don't have a bunch of flowery words to make the things I say sound better, so I'm just going to say everything and hopefully, you don't have a conniption and try and kill me before I finish, all right?"

He heard Sanji snicker and a swirl of smoke appeared and wrapped itself around their glasses. He watched as the cook tapped his ashes into the ashtray but didn't look up.

"I don't know, Marimo," Sanji said, "‘conniption' is a pretty great word." 

Zoro chuckled and a pleasant shiver ran down his spine. There was the distinct sound of a smile in Sanji's voice and it was doing things to his calm.

He took a few seconds to collect his thoughts, took a breath, and opened his mouth.

"I was—"

The door to the tavern slammed open, rattling the glass in the windows and causing the bottles and glassware at the bar to chatter. Zoro and Sanji both turned their heads at the same time to see two figures in the doorway, one stout with a shiny, bald head, and the other, skinny and tall, with long, curly black hair hanging to his waist. Both men held rifles in their hands and twin expressions of anger on their faces.

"Albert!" the bald one said loudly in a high-pitched whinny. "You come out here right now or we'll start shootin' up the place!"

The long-haired one tapped his rifle on the doorframe and growled. "Yeah, Albert! Come out with your hands up! Don't give us any crap, and we'll let you and your slimy, no good brother live!"

Sanji sighed across the table. "Are you kidding me? I've been waiting two years for this!"

The cook stood and Zoro took the opportunity to finish off the rest of his drink. Why waste good booze?

"Oi, losers," Sanji growled, "I'm trying to have a serious conversation here. Why don't you come back later?"

The bald one pulled the rifle from his shoulder and pointed it at Sanji. This angered Zoro unexpectedly and the swordsman shot to his feet.

"Who the hell do you think you are, blondie?" the bald one sneered. "Maybe you're the one who should come back later?"

Zoro listened to Sanji puff on the cigarette and then every nerve in his body sang with delight as the cook chuckled low and huskily.

"You hear that, Marimo? This guy thinks his conversation is more important than ours."

"Rude," Zoro murmured. He was almost giddy on the inside.

The long-haired one tapped his rifle on the doorframe again. "Albert! You better come out in the next five seconds or we're gonna start hurting your customers!"

Zoro grinned manically. "Cook, we need to teach these guys some manners."

Sanji shoved his hands into his pockets. "Agreed."

* * *

Twenty-five minutes later, Zoro and Sanji were stepping outside the tavern and into a light drizzle. Albert, the tavern's owner, had spent the last twenty-three minutes trying to give the pirates a reward for saving his life. Sanji had refused profusely when he had learned Albert's only crime had been to fall in love with bald man's daughter. The cook had turned serious eyes on the small man and had said, "Don't worry about it. Just treat her well and we're square."

Goddamnit, the cook was such a sap, and Zoro fucking loved it. 

Now, the two of them walked side by side down the gray street, rain soaking their hair and shoulders. Zoro was keyed up. The fight had been short, a mere few seconds, so not enough time to spend the adrenaline that came naturally when he readied himself for battle. He felt like running or screaming. He needed—

Sanji's hand on his coat startled him, but his instincts told him there was no danger so he let himself be pulled into a narrow passageway between two buildings. His back slammed against a stone wall, and then Sanji was there, inches from his face. His hair was heavy and dark with rain, and his eyes were a shade of blue that Zoro had seen only once before. Zoro had just enough time to growl softly before the cook's hands were sliding up his jaw, and then Sanji was kissing his lips.

Zoro felt as if the ground had given way. Suddenly his lungs couldn't get enough air and his groin was tight and throbbing painfully as white-hot desire burned through him. He kissed Sanji back greedily as his hands found the cook's hips. He pushed forward, sending Sanji back the two or three steps across the passageway until Sanji's back hit the opposite wall. Zoro pressed up hard against the other man's body, crushing him into the stone or brick or whatever it was, Zoro didn't care. All he could think about was Sanji's mouth. His lips. The cook's strong, lithe hips beneath his hands, muscles flexing against each other, the taste of rain and sweat and cigarettes on his tongue. Sanji's fingers found his hair and pulled desperately, pulled Zoro closer to him. 

When he broke away to look into those sharp blue eyes, Zoro found himself panting as if he had just run a hundred miles. His arms, one wrapped around Sanji's waist, and the other pressed against the wall behind them, were trembling. He was rock hard and burning from the inside.

"Well," Sanji breathed against his lips, "that answers one of my questions, at least." 

"I was obsessed with you," Zoro said suddenly, so soft it could barely be heard over the rain. Sanji watched him solemnly, his hands returning to Zoro's jaw. That touch almost distracted Zoro into forgetting what he was saying but he forced himself to focus. Over the last two years, he had spent much of his downtime in a deep introspection, sorting out exactly what he had felt for Sanji and had finally come to his conclusion. 

"Two years ago, the only thing I thought about more than you, was my goal to be the greatest swordsman. And sometimes that wasn't even true. When you started going with me to the brothels—to the male brothels—it was fun. You were off balance, so it was like I had something over you. But then I saw how the other men looked at you and I saw how you were warming to the idea and I just got so fucking jealous. I felt responsible and I hated that I was angry about feeling responsible. I was so upset that you had discovered this about yourself and at the same time I was so ashamed of being upset in the first place."

Sanji's thumbs were caressing his cheeks and Zoro leaned in close. His body was thrumming with heat despite the rain, and another cascade of shivers trailed down his spine as the cook's hard length pressed against his hip.

"I just wanted you. I was blind with it. I didn't care what the consequences were and when the fucking companions at that fucking place set me up in that room with you, it happened fast and I had no real desire to make it stop."

With that, Zoro closed his eye and rested his forehead against Sanji's.

"It was wrong, _I was wrong_ , and I'm sorry."

They stood that way for a while, forehead to forehead, Sanji cradling the back of Zoro's neck gently. The rain pelted the ground and the stone of the wall, but Zoro did not feel it. He didn't feel much of anything besides numbness for a long stretch of minutes until Sanji spoke, and when he did, Zoro's world froze.

"I was in love with you…" Sanji said.

Zoro felt that same sensation as if the ground had given way. He was falling, falling through space and time and everything was going white and hazy around him. Everything but Sanji's face; the crystal blue of his eyes.

"What?" he whispered.

* * *

Sanji ran his hands through Zoro's hair, wiped gently at the droplets of water trailing down the swordsman's brow and nose. His heart was racing so fast he thought Zoro could probably feel it vibrating through his body. Zoro's words had shattered every last bit of Sanji's reservation if he'd had any left at all that is, and had awakened the desire the cook had kept locked away deep inside himself for two years. He had not felt this calm, this sure of himself, or strangely, this frightened, in as long as he could remember.

"I was in love with you," Sanji said again, "and I didn't even realize it until you disappeared that day on Sabaody."

Shaking against him, Zoro blinked once, twice, slowly, and then shook his head. He opened his mouth to say something but it was as if his voice had left him. He closed it, tried again, but still nothing.

Sanji seemed to understand his plight and answered Zoro's unvoiced question.

"It started on Thriller Bark when I woke up to find you standing in a field of blood. You think no one knows what happened to you there, but I saw it. You took all the pain of the crew for yourself and never said a goddamn thing. It was the most idiotic, fucking dumbass, insane… most incredible act of selflessness I've ever seen."

His hands moved back to Zoro's jaw and he cradled the swordsman's head again, but this time he pulled him close, his hold a bit more forceful than before.

"I admire the shit out of you," he said, a smile playing on his lips, "I need you to understand that. No matter how much I tease you or challenge you or try and one-up you… you're…" he stopped, searching for the right words. 

"Next to Luffy, you are the most incredible person I've ever known."

Zoro let out a breath, it was clipped with emotion and what Sanji hoped was desire. The hand that had been pressed against the wall, slipped around his waist and Sanji felt strong fingers tighten in the back of his jacket between his shoulder blades.

"But what I did, back at—"

"—You made a mistake," Sanji cut him off. "It was a fucked-up mistake, but hell, I've made mistakes. I get it okay? If your feelings haven't changed, I want to just… pick up where we left off. If that's something you want."

Zoro nodded his head. "Yes, I want that. My feelings… haven't really changed at all."

He made like he was going to kiss Sanji again, but then paused and pulled back, studying the cook's face with his brow furrowed.

"What about you?" he asked.

Genuinely confused, Sanji asked, "What about me, what?"

"What about your feelings?" Zoro murmured. "How, I mean… do you still…"

Laughing, Sanji tilted his head back and let the droplets of water hit his face. "I'm standing here, kissing you in the rain, Zoro. I told you I was in love with you—"

"—Was," Zoro said quietly, "you said ‘was'. That doesn't mean you're sti—"

Closing the distance, Sanji pressed his lips to Zoro's and cut the swordsman off mid-word. He opened his mouth and slipped his tongue between Zoro's teeth and shuddered happily when the other man moaned softly against him. 

After a few long, wonderfully blissful moments, Sanji pulled back and whispered, "Nothing's changed, Marimo, except I might love you even more now than I did before."

He felt Zoro's breath catch and the swordsman's one open eye widened, but then there was a flash of teeth, and Zoro was kissing him again through a smile. 

They stood in that passageway until long after the rain had stopped and the sun had started to make its descent towards the evening sky.

* * *

Leaving Null Island was uneventful, as had been the entire excursion, thankfully. The Strawhats returned to their regular duties, and by duties, of course, that meant the various ways they passed the time while at sea. They ate a delicious dinner, played a few games of cards on the grass—ridiculous and incomprehensible rules provided by Usopp and Franky of course—and then as the sun set and the stars twinkled in a night sky above them, they lounged in chairs or huddled in soft blankets as Robin read them adventure stories about dragons and knights in shining armor.

After most of the crew had gone to bed, and Sanji had finished the prep for the morning, he made his way into the aquarium and found Zoro there, his arms folded across his chest, calmly watching the fish.

Not wishing to disturb the swordsman when he was looking so content, but unable to stop himself from reaching out his hands and sliding them over Zoro's hips, Sanji pulled himself close, relishing the swordsman's soft intake of breath, and whispered against the shell of an ear adorned with three gold earrings.

"I'm here, what did you want to show me?"

Zoro turned his head and his cheekbone brushed against the stubble on Sanji's chin.

"In a minute," he said softly, and then turned and faced the cook. "First, we have to set some ground rules."

Sanji laughed, it was almost a giggle. "What, like safe words?"

Zoro's grin was wide and almost dopy, "No, idiot, not like that… well, unless you're into that."

Leering, Sanji lowered his voice, "If they're for you, then yeah."

Surprised and delighted, Sanji watched a blush spread over the swordsman's cheeks, but then, still grinning, Zoro closed his eyes and shook his head. "Goddamnit, I forgot what I was talking about."

"Ground rules," Sanji almost laughed again. 

"Yeah. Ground rules for around the ship. I don't really care if the crew knows about us, but I do want to set some boundaries. It's our private life and I don't want to flaunt it all over the place, or give Luffy's enemies extra ammo."

"Ah," Sanji nodded, "that's smart." He knocked a cigarette from his pack and slipped it between his lips. As Zoro talked he lit up and pulled the smoke into his lungs.

"We keep things the way they've always been outside, on the deck, the helm, places like that, and we keep the stuff between ourselves to like, the galley."

"After dark, and after night prep," Sanji agreed.

Zoro nodded. "I was thinking the crow's nest too. I mean, no one's up there in the gym but me most of the time."

Sanji puffed again and blew out a long, thin stream of smoke. "What about the washroom?"

Lifting a finger to scratch at his temple in an absurdly bashful way, Zoro nodded again. 

"Yeah, that… that's a good idea."

The way he was standing sparked the cook's interest. This was a strange edition of the Zoro Sanji knew. He was like a younger, more vulnerable version and it was charming, but also confusing.

"Are you okay, Zoro?" Sanji asked.

Zoro looked at him and nodded. 

"Then," Sanji shrugged, "what's up?"

Looking almost guilty, Zoro rubbed his fingers over his mouth and then put his hands on his hips. Sanji could not imagine what could possibly have the swordsman in this sort of state but damn it was cute as hell. 

"I need you to trust me for a few minutes, okay?"

Sanji nodded, "All right."

"Follow me."

Curious, Sanji crushed the butt on the bottom of his shoe and slipped the half-smoked cigarette back into his pack. He followed Zoro from the aquarium and out onto the grass deck. They made their way to the main mast but just as Sanji was readying himself to climb, Zoro stopped and turned to him.

"It's a surprise and I know you'll peek if I tell you to close your eyes so..." Zoro then untied his bandana from around his bicep and took a step forward. He held it up and took a breath.

Sanji chuckled quietly and took the bandana from Zoro's hands. He was giddy suddenly, excited like he always was before a fight. When he put the bandana up to his eyes in a makeshift blindfold he grinned again and spoke in a whisper, as not to alert the rest of the crew.

"You sure we don't need to go over some safe words, Marimo? This shit is bordering on kinky."

He heard Zoro's soft chuckle as he knotted the ends at the back of his head, and then he felt a soft touch guide his hand to the ladder.

It was awkward climbing without his sight, but the cook managed without too much fuss. When he reached the top, he opened the door to the crow's nest and pulled himself up inside. He heard Zoro climb up behind him and shut the door. There was nothing for a moment, and Sanji was about to say something, but then Zoro's hands were at his hips, turning him to face the center of the room, and the swordsman's deep voice was at his ear.

"Okay, you can look now."

When Sanji pulled the bandana from his eyes, he stood frozen for a few seconds, unsure he could believe what he was seeing.

Candles were placed throughout the room, they sat on the bench and on the floor beside the bench at varying intervals. Their soft glow gave the space a dreamlike feel and threw the world outside the windows into an even deeper shadow. It was like they were floating in their own separate place outside of time and space. A futon lay on the floor dressed in a few pillows and a single red, blanket. Beside the futon was a bottle of wine and two glasses. 

And there were rose petals.

Sanji's gaze swept over the floor, the carpet of petals, and breathed in the sweet scent of the flowers, his heart skipping and dancing behind the cage of his ribs. It was hard to breathe, hard to think. No one had ever done anything like this for him before, no one had even tried.

"Z-Zoro…" he tried to say, but his voice seemed to get lost in a wave of emotion.

"I'm not great at this whole romantic thing," Zoro murmured behind him, "but I know you really like it so I thought… I don't know. I just thought you deserved something nice."

Sanji turned to him, meeting the swordsman's eyes, not knowing what to say or how to deal with the powerful rush of desire and love the overtook him. He feared it would sweep him up and carry him away if he didn't grab on to something quick.

He took Zoro's arms in his hands and tried to speak.

"You sweet… beautiful bastard. I can't believe you did this, you goddamn, fucking perfect…"

Zoro's eye was wide with surprise and it seemed he was about to say something, but Sanji cut him off by kissing him. Zoro made a soft noise in the back of his throat and slid his arms around Sanji's waist. They were breathless, shaking in each other's hold, excited and afraid at this new and wonderful new territory.

"Fuck you," Sanji breathed into Zoro's mouth. "I love you, you son of a bitch."

Zoro laughed and shook his head. "Do you like it or not? You're sending me mixed signals."

"Idiot, of course I like it." He kissed Zoro one last time before he pulled away. He shrugged out of his jacket and yanked at his tie. "Now, we're gonna drink some wine naked."

Zoro's eyebrows shot up. "Okay, I like this idea."

They stripped out of their clothes, tossing them on the floor and sending rose petals dancing across the wooden planks. Sanji sat on the futon and took the wine bottle from Zoro's hands as the swordsman sat in front of him. They were so close that their shins and knees touched, and as the cook worked the cork free Zoro took one of Sanji's legs and pulled it over his thigh. He caressed the skin stretched over a knee and Sanji had to focus on steadying his hands as he poured wine into each glass.

"I have to admit," Sanji said softly, "you drinking wine out of a glass is a little weird for me."

Zoro grinned and took the glass from Sanji's hand. "Don't tell anyone."

Sanji snickered and held his glass up just below his jaw. He watched Zoro's face as the swordsman touched his glass to Sanji's, his one open eye darker than Sanji had seen it in a long time. The cook sipped, rolling the wine over his tongue, savoring the mild berry and chestnut flavor before swallowing. When Zoro downed the entire glass in one go, Sanji laughed and pinched the swordsman's arm.

"Ouch! What?!"

"Uncultured swine," Sanji smiled.

"Wine is for drinking, cook," Zoro muttered, to which Sanji laughed again.

He poured the swordsman another glass and set the bottle down. "How did you do all this with no one seeing you?"

Shrugging, Zoro took another long drink but stopped himself before he drained the entire thing. "Usopp has a stash of candles in his workshop. I told him they were for training. The futon was already here, I keep it under the bench for when I train late and don't want to wake Luffy up."

"Eh?" Sanji made a face, "This has sweaty after-training Marimo all over it?"

Zoro made a face, but it could not hide the humor beneath it. "No, I shower first. Anyway, the wine and the glasses I snatched from your stash when you went to give the girls their after-dinner coffee. The roses are from Robin's garden."

"You stole flowers from Robin-chwan!?" Sanji was appalled.

"Man, you have no faith in me," Zoro growled. "I get flowers from Robin all the time, for training."

"Training." Sanji cocked an eyebrow.

Zoro nodded again. "For training."

Sanji was skeptical, but also curious.

"Show me."

That one dark gray eye opened wide and the swordsman's caress on his thigh froze. "Right now?"

"Yes, right now."

Zoro blinked and then looked around as if he had forgotten where they were. He let out a breath, finished off his wine, and gently moved Sanji's leg from his lap. "Okay."

He stood and moved to where he had propped his swords against the wall. He took the white one, the one he cared for so reverently, and straightened. The candlelight reflected off his skin, throwing shadows against the hard lines of his back and buttocks. He was such a sight to behold, and Sanji was still having trouble believing all that skin and muscle and _power_ was literally at his disposal.

Zoro turned and caught Sanji watching him.

"You just want to see me train with my clothes off."

Nodding sagely, Sanji took another swallow. "It's a bonus."

Smiling softly, Zoro moved to the center of the room and picked up a single petal from the floor. He examined it for a few seconds, and then the smile dropped and he backed up towards the ladder. He stood still for about a half minute before he changed his stance, spreading his feet and readying his sword at his right hip.

Sanji could feel the change in the atmosphere. It was like the charge in the air just before a storm. His hair stood up at the back of his neck, and he shivered as Zoro's face darkened and a surge of energy pulsed through the room. 

It took less than three seconds. Zoro moved, gently tossed the petal into the air, and then he reached across his body to take the hilt of his sword in his left hand. Another pulse of energy filled the room, and the petal split into two perfectly equal pieces and floated to the floor.

Sanji didn't realize he was holding his breath until the two halves of the petal had actually touched down on the floorboards. He let it out in a long rush and looked back up at Zoro. The swordsman's eyes were closed. He hadn't even drawn the sword.

"Holy shit…" Sanji whispered.

Zoro opened his one eye, looked at him, and Sanji felt desire hit him and rocket through him like a bolt of lightning. He tipped his glass, downing the last of his wine, and set the glass on the floor next to the futon. Turning back, he licked his lips and motioned to Zoro with his hand.

"Come here." 

Zoro set his sword carefully on the floor where he stood and came to the futon. He moved like a predator, stalking his prey through the tall grass at the edge of a field. Sanji however, did not feel like prey, he felt powerful. He watched the ripple of muscle under scarred, tanned skin and swallowed in anticipation of running his hands over every inch of it. His mouth dropped open the tiniest bit and he let out a soft noise as Zoro crouched and then crawled on his hands and knees to where Sanji sat. His hands glided over Sanji's thighs, and he pushed his way underneath Sanji's jaw to kiss at the skin of the cook's neck.

Sighing softly, Sanji put his hands on Zoro's shoulders and lay back on the soft blanket. Zoro came with him, kissing and sucking at pale skin, gripping strong thighs with his calloused hands as Sanji's legs came around his hips. 

When Zoro's weight came down on him, Sanji let out another soft noise and ran his hands up a scarred torso. The swordsman's body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and though Sanji wasn't sure if it was from the strain of the technique he had just executed, or merely from the heat of their bodies coming together, he didn't care. Zoro's skin was slick against his own, and the two rocked together smoothly, their cocks sliding easily in the clefs between thigh and groin.

Slowly, Zoro began to leave open-mouthed kisses down the column of Sanji's throat, and then down to his chest. Sanji tucked one arm behind his head and let the other rake through the swordsman's hair. He watched those lips kiss his skin, that tongue dart out and flick his nipple, while little ripples of pleasure swam through his veins. His breath caught every time Zoro's rough thumbs caressed over his abs, or across the angle of his hips. He pulled at Zoro's hair when teeth nipped at the flesh around his navel.

When Zoro reached his cock, Sanji fell still. His hand froze.

"Zoro," he said softly, "you don't—"

"—I've been thinking about this all day," Zoro growled, and then looked up and Sanji, his smile mischievous. "This time you can watch."

With that Zoro ran his tongue up the length of him, his gaze never leaving Sanji's. The earth trembled around the cook and Sanji reached for a second pillow and propped it underneath his head. His hands stayed fisted in the pillowcase as Zoro's lips came down over him. It had been two years, but the sensation of Zoro's mouth around him was exactly as he remembered.

Sanji let out a soft gasp as pleasure tightened everything in his body from the hips down. He watched as Zoro's lips hollowed and he sucked gently as he slid back up, and then down again.

" _Fuck…_ " Sanji whispered breathlessly. 

Zoro continued to work him slowly, watching the cook with his one dark eye. His hands came up, one arm sliding beneath Sanji's leg and wrapping around his thigh. The other teased through dark blond curls and cupped Sanji's sack. Pleasure clouded Sanji's senses, his breathing turned into short, broken panting. He felt his loins tightening as Zoro started to work faster, his strong hand pumping him along with his mouth.

Sanji cursed again, but his throat was so tight the sound barely got past his lips.

He writhed, tried to twist with the pleasure of it but Zoro had a firm hold on his thigh. Sanji knew somewhere in the back of his mind, it would be a simple enough thing to buck the swordsman off, kick him across the room, but he had forgotten how to do it. He had forgotten everything except the burning heat building up inside him. He sat up halfway and supported himself on an elbow, his other hand reached down and his fingers gripped the hair at the base of Zoro's skull.

He wanted to warn the swordsman so the man could pull off before he came, but he still couldn’t remember how to speak, and it was no use anyway, it was happening. Every muscle in his body coiled like a spring and then released. Pleasure bloomed as he spilled into Zoro's mouth. He let out a soft cry when the swordsman's eye lifted to meet his, and the two held their gaze as Zoro slowly worked the last of the orgasm from Sanji's body.

When it was over, Sanji's eyes slipped closed and he fell back onto the bed. Zoro crawled over him and kissed his jaw, sliding his hands into the cook's sweaty hair. When he spoke, his voice was low and husky.

"I don't think there's anything sexier than your face when you come."

Sanji laughed breathlessly, "I disagree."

"Yeah?" Zoro said, leaving another kiss on his temple.

"Yeah," Sanji repeated, trying to catch his breath. "The way you looked when I fucked you two years ago… shit, I want that to be the last thing I see before I die."

He felt Zoro chuckle against his skin and Sanji lifted his arms to run over smooth biceps.

"You didn't happen to snatch the lube from the galley, did you?"

Zoro shook his head. "No, but I have some of my own. Not my first fishing trip."

Laughing, Sanji smoothed his hair back out and watched as Zoro grabbed a bottle from the corner of the futon. When he returned and knelt between Sanji's legs, the swordsman paused. He ran his hand up Sanji's thigh and a thoughtful, almost concerned look crossed his features.

"You know, we don't have to do it this way. I'm perfectly fine with the way we did it last time."

Sanji shook his head. "I've been waiting two years for this, don't chicken out on me now."

"I'm not chickening out," Zoro growled, popping the cap on the bottle and pouring some onto his fingers. After he tossed the bottle aside, his features softened and he looked back up into Sanji's eyes.

"I'll go slow. Tell me if it hurts or you don't like it. I promise I'll stop."

Sanji smiled and shook his head again. "Don't worry, Marimo. The island I ended up on was Hell and the people were crazy, but they had some nice toys."

Zoro's one gray eye sparkled as he leaned over Sanji and pulled one long leg up and around his hip. "Yeah?"

Sanji's hand trailed up the scar on Zoro's chest. "Yeah."

Zoro's fingers slid into him and Sanji's focus narrowed. There was pressure, but Zoro was gentle, there was no pain.

"Tell me about the toys," the swordsman said softly.

Huffing a laugh, Sanji lifted his other knee to give Zoro a better angle and felt his back arch almost on its own as Zoro's touch slid deeper.

"Not much to tell," Sanji murmured. "I got a couple as gifts and got a little curious. I tried it on myself and tried not to cuss you out too loudly."

"Cuss me out?" Zoro snorted. "I wasn't even there. Not my fault."

"It was so your fault. You were there in my head and it fucking hurt the first few times. Not like… not like this…" Sanji's loins were tightening again. The pleasure was slowly seeping back into him through every pore, collecting in his lower gut and awakening his spent cock.

"Shit, how are you doing this?"

"Good with my hands," Zoro smiled against his lips.

"Bastard," Sanji growled before he reached up and pulled the swordsman down to him. He kissed Zoro's lips again, tasting salt and bitterness on his tongue, but not minding at all. The fingers inside of him were moving slow and gentle, brushing against places he himself hadn't been able to find so easy. 

But it wasn't enough. He wanted more. 

Knowing he had the swordsman sufficiently distracted, Sanji planted one of his heels into the futon and pushed. His hips came up and he rolled them both, throwing Zoro onto his back. The swordsman uttered an _oof!_ as he landed, and his fingers left Sanji's body in a rush.

"Woa, cook," Zoro grinned up at him, "a little impatient, aren't we?"

"Yeah," Sanji said. He rolled his hips, sliding himself over Zoro's hard length and the swordsman groaned in approval. He glanced around, looking for the bottle of lube and spied it not far from Zoro's head. He grabbed it and squeezed some into his palm. When he slicked Zoro's length, the swordsman made a noise that had Sanji fully hard once again.

"You want me on my stomach?" Sanji asked.

If Zoro's eyes had been dark before, it was nothing compared to how that one iris flashed at those words. It was now a night sky devoid of stars, a canyon at the bottom of the sea in the deepest part of the ocean. The swordsman's hands gripped his thighs hard enough to leave bruises and he shuddered beneath Sanji's hips.

"Yes."

Sanji moved off him and stretched out on the futon. He folded his arms underneath his chin and turned his head to watch over his shoulder. His legs were sprawled slightly, inviting. 

Zoro sat up and ran a hand up the back of Sanji's thigh. He lowered his head and laid kisses along the line of Sanji's spine and moved to kneel between the cook's long legs. Sanji startled at Zoro's touch but shivered almost violently as he felt the head of the swordsman's cock slip inside him. His hands moved to tangle in the blanket and he continued to watch Zoro's face, stony with concentration as he slowly pushed himself into Sanji's body.

The pressure was great, but again, there was no pain. He had opened himself up enough times before so his body understood what to do, but _oh god_ it was so different when it was with another person. When that person was _Zoro_. 

Sanji cried out softly when the swordsman was fully seated, but his cry was not one of pain. The feeling of Zoro filling him up had overwhelmed him on an emotional level he had not expected.

" _Ahh… shit…_ " he said softly.

"You okay?" Zoro whispered against the back of his neck.

Sanji nodded and opened his eyes. Zoro was watching him with a mixture of love and desperation, trembling over him, shuddering a little at every breath Sanji took.

That sent the cook's heart fluttering. It gave him the courage to arch his back and lift his hips. Zoro's mouth fell open as he did, and he pushed forward with his own hips, meeting the cook in a gentle thrust. Another one of those sounds that had Sanji's dick jumping escaped from between the swordsman's teeth.

"Like that?" Sanji's voice was low, rough.

Zoro's lips moved but there were no words. He tried again but failed a second time. Finally, he closed his eyes and nodded before letting his forehead fall between Sanji's shoulder blades. He pulled out slowly and then pushed in again, the movement sending a jolt of pleasure through Sanji's whole body. The cook grunted softly, dropping his own forehead to the futon. 

They moved like that for a small space of time, Zoro thrusting in and out gently, getting Sanji used to the intrusion. And then just as Sanji was about to tell Zoro to pick up the pace, he felt one of the swordsman's arms slip underneath his own, and the weight of Zoro's torso come down on his back. He felt the hand beneath him, slip fingers in between his own and tears stung his eyes as he realized that Zoro was wrapped entirely around him, cradling him as they fucked slow and gentle. Sanji had never imagined this was how it would be, that Zoro would prove this romantic, this sweet and loving.

Zoro's lips were on his neck, his face buried in the crook of his shoulder. He was panting heavily, making soft noises every time Sanji's hips lifted or his thighs squeezed. 

Sanji turned his head to put his lips within reach if Zoro wanted them.

"Is this how you always dreamt it?" he asked, his voice nothing but a breathy whisper. 

Zoro groaned, "Better," and squeezed Sanji's hand. 

That did him in. Sanji let himself be washed away with the tide of Zoro's tenderness, his passion. He felt his heart break open and warmth bled out through his chest, through his veins to his fingertips and toes. The pleasure that built as Zoro moved in him, was fueled by that warmth, and Sanji knew there was no way he would ever be satisfied with anything else ever again. 

Sanji felt the futon dip by his head as Zoro braced himself on his other hand. Their movements were quicker now, the swordsman's hips drove into him harder, faster, the slap of flesh punctuated every delicious peak of friction; every lightning bolt of pleasure that sent stars swimming across the back of Sanji's eyelids. He felt his legs spread wider as Zoro pushed them farther apart with his thighs, felt the swordsman's gasping breaths against his shoulder, the frantic press of lips on his skin. 

Sanji felt himself racing toward another release, reaching for it blindly amongst a sea of pleasure, pain, and overwhelming ecstasy. And then Zoro's voice was at his ear, panting, desperate.

"Tell me you love me. Do it now, I'm coming."

"I love you," Sanji said without hesitation. Zoro's words sent him flying, hurling over the edge. He turned his face back into the futon and came hard enough to knock the wind out of his lungs. He couldn't even cry out or gasp in his pleasure. He felt he would pass out as the world wavered and faded out around him, faintly aware of Zoro growling against him, and sharp pain flooding his shoulder before he finally came down and started to come back to himself.

Zoro's weight left him and he slowly rolled to his back, breathing heavily and shivering with the last remnants of the most amazing orgasm he had ever experienced. He lay there, cursing under his breath, wanting a cigarette but feeling too good to move. When Zoro's lips pressed against his jaw and the swordsman's fingers trailed over his cheek, Sanji opened his eyes and met his gaze. It was calm, still tender, but now it was concerned as well.

"You okay?" Zoro asked softly.

Sanji smiled tiredly. "I told you I can take anything you can dish out, Marimo. I'm fine. Good even."

"Yeah?"

Nodding, Sanji ran a hand through his sweaty hair. "Yeah. Could definitely use a cigarette though."

The warmth of Zoro’s body left him for a moment, but the swordsman returned quickly with his pack and lighter. After lighting up and pulling a drag deep into his lungs, Sanji exhaled and turned to find Zoro resting at his side, his head propped up on his elbow and his temple resting in his palm.

“I was—” Pain, sharp and exact flared in his shoulder and the cook lifted his hand to prod at the spot. His fingers came away spotted with blood. When he looked at Zoro the swordsman made a face and lifted his own shoulders.

“Sorry…”

“Holy shit,” Sanji chuckled. “All right all right I get it, we’ll do it. Safe words. I’ll get you a collar.”

Zoro snorted and leaned in to kiss the bite mark. Sanji watched his face, and the way his eyes narrowed in concentration as he studied the wound up close. He liked the serious side of Zoro as much as the flirtatious side, or the teasing side. He liked every part of Zoro from his directional faults all the way to his incredible power and swordsmanship. Sanji loved him. All of him.

“Zoro…” he said softly.

Zoro’s gaze shifted from his shoulder to his face but he said nothing.

Sanji swallowed. “You said your feelings haven’t changed in the last two years, so what does that… I mean, what should I expect?”

Taking a slow breath, Zoro spoke so softly that Sanji could barely hear him.

“You want me to say that I love you?”

Sanji crushed his cigarette out between his fingers and dropped it into the nearest wineglass. When he turned back to the swordsman he lifted his hand and ran the backs of his knuckles over Zoro’s cheek.

“I only want you to say it if you mean it.”

A few seconds passed by, a few that seemed like a hundred, and Sanji found he was holding his breath. Finally, Zoro reached up and took his hand, kissed his fingers, and shrugged his shoulders.

“Then, I love you.”

It was so simple, so easily said, and sounded so perfect coming from Zoro’s lips that Sanji could do nothing but smile.

_Epilogue_

The sun shone through a canopy of palm trees, painting the stalls on either side of the cobblestone road in irregular splashes of golden light. Vendors called their wares, children laughed and frolicked, people chatted and bartered and shouted greetings to one another, and Sanji took it all in with a smile.

The cook’s gaze returned to the stand in front of him and he motioned with his head.

“Can I get just one?”

The woman he was addressing smiled a wide smile and pulled a thick, long-stemmed rose from a wooden box and carefully wrapped it in tissue paper.

“For someone special?” she asked.

“Yes, very.”

He took the rose and place a few beli in her palm, insisting she keep the change. She thanked him, and he was on his way.

The island was beautiful, the people were friendly, and the food was a good quality. Sanji could have spent another few hours shopping or even just wandering, peeking into windows to watch cakes being decorated, or tasting bits of grilled meats on the end of sampling sticks.

But he had somewhere to be.

Making his way towards the harbor, Sanji shifted his mountain of packages and bags and crates and bottles to sit better on his back. When he neared _Sunny’s_ dock he slipped the rose into his jacket and then placed a cigarette between his teeth. Nami and Robin were just heading out and he waved enthusiastically to them as they passed him on the gangplank. They waved back, laughing and promising to be back for dinner.

His stop into the galley was only long enough to put a few perishables away, and then he was out, crossing the deck and climbing the ladder to the crow’s nest. Just before he reached the door, he pulled the rose from his jacket, and folded the tissue paper down so the ruby red of the petals could be seen clearly. 

Reaching for the handle, he started as the door opened and a head of green hair appeared. A tanned face peered down at him and a dark gray eye moved to the rose in his hand.

Soft lips pulled back in a smile, and that handsome face softened into something almost beautiful.

“Hey, cook,” Zoro said softly.

Sanji felt his own mouth turn up in a smile. “Hey, Marimo.”

Zoro took the rose, Sanji climbed the rest of the way up the ladder, and shut the door behind them.

**THE END**


End file.
